


New Light: Creating Cybertronian Life

by gatekat, Starsheild (StarRise)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Contract Breeding, M/M, Mech Preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarRise/pseuds/Starsheild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>G1, Post-War AU, First Aid/Ironhide<br/>With coding demands to kindle, Ironhide propositions his polar opposite and ends up the subject of a study in Cybertronian reproduction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparations and Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> The story is really more of an excuse to write out detailed notes on newspark development until shortly after separation from the carrier.

Ironhide huffed and glared at the Praxian who'd just handed him the results of his request. "You're joking, right?"

"Hardly," Smokescreen's doorwings twitched slightly. "You asked for the mech who would most balance you out in a sparkling and that's him. You don't have to take my advice if you find him that distasteful."

"But a _pacifist_?" Ironhide just stared.

"What better to balance _you_ out?" Smokescreen shrugged. "You didn't ask for a lover, just a balance. He'll create a balanced sparkling with you."

Ironhide gave another deep huff and shook his helm. "Thanks. I'll have to think on this one."

"Sure thing," Smokescreen patted his shoulder. "Good luck, with whoever you choose."

A low grunt answered and the former diversionary tactician left, his doorwings relaxed. It left Ironhide alone in his office to contemplate the suggestion and if he really wanted to devote three and a half centuries to being with someone so much his opposite.

* * *

The medical wing was blessedly empty at the moment. It saw far fewer visitors in the deca-vorn since the war had ended with the deactivation of so many of the Decepticon leadership, a fact that its current lone occupant was grateful for. Patients or no, Medical was still First Aid's retreat of choice. Few mecha ventured there who did not need to be there, and the familiar surroundings were a comfort to the medic as he worked and thought.

Instruments flew through his skilled hands- dis-assembled, cleaned, re-assembled, calibrated and checked in a steady rhythm that allowed First Aid's processors to wander some. With everything settled, many mecha were having old protocols come online. Protocols that urged them to mate and procreate in the face of abundant resources and a critically low population.

The medic had found himself no exception, and registered himself in the available carrier database with the first stirrings of the code. He had put few preferred parameters in for the sire, but as the code grew stronger and more insistent, he was starting to get twitchy.

He needed to create. Actually wanted to. But the lack of suitors indicated that no one was interested in him as a carrier, available or not. If no one came, he could always go begging. Or look among his gestalt, though none of them appealed to him as potential mate material.

The door opened and he glanced up to spot a mech he wasn't expecting. "Ironhide, what can I do for you?"

"Your designation's on the available carriers list," the red mech began.

There was a klik of silence as First Aid finished the tool he had been working on, setting it meticulously aside before focusing his full attention on the large warrior. "Yes. It has been, for over half a vorn." He responded, cautious and willing to hope as his optics traveled swiftly and critically over Ironhide from helm to pede. The mech kept himself in top condition, though his finish still displayed his general disregard for looks.

"My coding is pushing me to kindle, and I'm not partial to being the carrier. I'm also not looking for anything that lasts longer than the sparkling's maturity cycle. Three hundred and fifty vorns on the outside. I'll stay with you and help raise it until then. What I am to either of you afterwards will be determined by what we all feel at the end, but I'm expecting to walk away."

The young medic listened, sifting through the words for additional meaning and found none, which fit with the straitforward warrior's personality. "A single creation contract, with a parting of ways once the creation is fully mature and independent." He repeated, pleased with the idea and the potential mate standing before him, his processor already alight with possibilities.

"Exactly," Ironhide nodded with a small sense of relief. "I do want exclusive berth rights from kindling to separation. After that, you're free to be with anyone, and so am I."

"A vorn. Not so long for the sake of a strong, stable creation." First Aid was finally allowing himself to hope. With that hope was a stirring of the code was a soft purr in his tone. "My brothers will want to check on me, and I may be called for an emergency early, but other than that I can be _yours_ for that time."

"I'm not looking to keep you from friends or kin or duties," Ironhide raised his hands slightly. "I have duties and friends too and I know you're a medic. Sounds like it's worth hashing out and filing a contract; seems we're agreeable on the major points already," he said, both relieved and hopeful. "I know you've seen my psych profile. Simple mech, simple needs, simple demands, simple plans. I do want those plans though. Don't want any major surprises in what you expect, or I thought you knew."

First Aid checked his schedule. It was clear for the orn, and he was due to be off shift in two joor anyway. "I have time now, if we ant to talk. Or is later better for you?"

"No reason to put it off," Ironhide shrugged. "I'm off duty. Will be till an early dawn patrol. Here, or over energon?"

"I'm off in two joor. We can do energon then. I've had half a vorn to think this over already." First Aid pointed out.

Ironhide settled against the nearest wall and nodded. "Why don't we start there, with what you want, given my offer."

"The core is what I put in the requests for a sire when I registered myself as a carrier. A strong mate, one who is experienced where I am not, a protector and provider. I only have medical records and recent observations to go off of, but the requests are based on what I suspect my own coding is going to demand most." First Aid explained, thoughtful. "Personally, I want a strong healthy sparkling. And one free from my own...limitations."

"If anyone short of Sunstreaker can provide a counter to your coding, it's me," Ironhide nodded. "Doesn't get much more anti-pacifist than a sparked warrior my age. I'm good on the other counts too, if you want to see my credit history."

First Aid smiled a little. "I can look at them, but I'm not worried. Someone that can put up with my brothers is an important factor too."

Ironhide huffed. "I've put up with worse trainees and visitors, but I'm not willing to bunk with them."

"I wouldn't ask that of anyone. I can move in with you, if you are agreeable, and make it clear that space is off limits to them. Brothers or not, I need a retreat sometimes as well." First Aid informed him.

"It'd be best for the sparkling if we bunk together and raise it as a couple," Ironhide said simply. "Is one room enough space for a personal retreat?"

"More than enough. I would not even need a room to myself, if you are not going to require me to stay in whatever quarters we are sharing while I am carrying. Few mecha bother me here." 'Here' was quickly defined as the medic waved a hand to encompass the medical ward that was empty save for the two of them.

"I was serious when I said I wasn't out to keep you from friends or duty," Ironhide said firmly. "Just don't interface with anybody else while you're carrying and come home for your recharge and at least a couple extra joors and I'm good. It'll give us most of a vorn to get into reasonable family dynamics before the sparkling starts to watch and learn. I may not be after a long-term mate or domestic bliss, but it's good for a peacetime sparkling to grow up seeing it's possible, even if they know their creators aren't in love or bonded. So we're looking at two to four rooms, a washrack and a living room. Do you care about a kitchen, or is a dispenser good enough?"

"A dispenser is plenty." First Aid actually chuckled. "If you were hoping for a co-creator who was handy at making treats or goodies, I am not your mech, I'm afraid. But a place where a creation can have a good life- yes. If there is a four room space available, I would not object to the larger area."

"Not that it wouldn't be a perk, but no, a cook isn't something I care about. It only matters because it determines the criteria of the quarters I make into a shortlist for us to check out," Ironhide said easily. "No reason to pay for one if you don't use it, no reason not to if it's something you enjoy."

First Aid nodded and considered for a moment, before commenting thoughtfully. "Since most of the creations so far have been the result of bonded or long term committed mecha, it might be good that a creation of ours will be raised in a different but still loving and friendly environment. Since I suspect it will be the first of more."

Ironhide nodded. "I don't doubt it. If it goes well, it might not even be the only one for us, though I'm going to want a nice long break before I try again. When is your next orn off? I can have a few places sorted out to look at for it. Are you inclined to try and direct the sparkling into a given field of study?"

"Agreed. And three orns from now. Is that enough time for you to look?"

"Plenty," he nodded. "Most of the sorting work is just typing in the requirements, wants and price range. I'm assuming you're no more inclined to leave central Iacon than I am. We both have good jobs here." He paused. "Do you have a range you must be in for those emergency calls?"

"No- there is no minimum response time while I am under a creation contract. Ratchet was very particular about that clause. I was not planning to try and influence the sparkling in anyway." First Aid confessed. "If Primus is good enough to give us a newspark, I'm a inclined to let it find it's own path. I've seen enough sparks forced into functionings that they were not entirely suited for." He added softly.

"We all have," Ironhide grunted. "If the spark suits it, that early boost gives it a huge advantage in more competitive fields, but it can really frag them up too. Hard to tell what we might turn out, so probably for the best to let it sort itself out. I think we both got lucky with our functions and sparks."

There was a visible relaxing of First Aid's frame at the response, and a happy teek in his field at the answer. "I am glad that we agreed on that. "

"Same here," Ironhide gave a short nod. "Not going to pretend I don't hope for one that likes guns and sparing, but if it's a thinker or scout or whatever, so be it."

The comment earned a chuckle from First Aid. "We shall see," was all he said, content and hopeful as he had not been in almost half a vorn.

* * *

First Aid wandered through the empty quarters that Ironhide had found for them. They were large, very large, given the location of being almost central in Iacon. He would have to find out how much it was costing, and how much he would need to contribute later. But as he came out of the third berthroom and into the large central living area he had to admit he _liked_ them, and was very impressed.

"Very nice." He complimented the older warrior, tone and field expressing sincerity of the words. "'Especially the oil pool. I am going to be so spoiled."

"Glad you'll enjoy it too. That was on my requirements list. These old joints like the hot oil," Ironhide chuckled. "I figured a room for us, a room for our creation and a either an office or workroom. Part of it will be walled off and locked for my weapons and ammunition. Not going to have that laying about with a sparkling around."

"Reasonable." First Aid turned a circle in the great-room. "What sort of entertainment systems were you planning to put in? Or do you care?"

"I've got a good system I plan on moving," Ironhide said. "One of my indulgences, besides high grade. You?"

"I was hoping to be able to put in a nice vid screen and video system. One of my indulgences." First Aid smiled, moving closer to Ironhide. "Do you have a favorite vid?"

"Of what still exists..." he hesitated, then shrugged. "Sparkling comedies. Some histories, but not much still exists that I didn't see first hand. A fair number of the exports from Old Japan."

First Aid laughed in good humor. "I'll raid the communal collection. My brothers can live without some of our movies for a while."

"You like some of those too?" Ironhide was genuinely surprised, even if he realized he shouldn't be, given their first vorns. "Side question. Ya had enough experience to have any berth preferences?"

"Played around, when mecha were interested. Didn't happen much, but enough for me to figure out that my preference tends to change dependent on my partner." First Aid hummed. "What about you?"

"Simple mech, simple desires," Ironhide chuckled. "If it feels good I'm game, but I prefer my spike."

"Then I think we'll get along just fine, seeing as how the contract is arranged." First Aid smiled, close enough for Ironhide to feel the tickle of anticipation in the medic's field. "I have time off to move and get things situated and arranged. When do you want to start?"

"As soon as you're settled." Ironhide gave him a roguish grin and leaned in. "Doesn't mean we can't have some fun before sparks get involved."

"Shouldn't take me long. Though my estimates my very well depend on how often I am distracted." First Aid teased, inviting and not-quite-touching. Ironhide took the opening to pull the lighter mech against him and kissed him hard, his glossa against First Aid's lip plates to get them to part.

The moment, and whatever it might have become, was interrupted by a pointed grunt from the direction of the main entrance.

"Come to watch?" Ironhide grinned over his shoulder at Ratchet before turning his attention back to his mate.

There was a moment of hesitation from the lighter mech in warrior's arms, torn between respect for his mentor and superior, and the mech that his code was very quickly making second only to the Prime. The code and Ironhide won as First Aid melted into the kiss, lip plates parting to the demanding glossa. It swept into his oral cavity, and stroked his glossa while strong, sure and scarred hands swept down First Aid's flanks and pulled him flush.

The sturdy frame shivered against his at the touch, now distracted enough to easily ignored the outwardly exasperated by inwardly rather pleased and amused mech still standing in the door. When skillful, slender red hands began to investigate Ironhide's frame in return Ratchet simply leaned against the door, resigned to watching the show as he had been invited to do.

Deep down he was glad to see that the pair were hitting it off. He had been watching his student over the last half vorn, watching as First Aid become more agitated, and had been on the verge of approaching the young mech himself, no matter how incompatible they might have turned out to be. The sparkling would be smart, well cared for and educated if he'd sired it, but he could never make the kind of time for it that he knew Ironhide would.

He had to admit the pair looked hot together with the way First Aid was moaning, and far more familiar than he knew they were. He was rather glad he hadn't brought the human along. Jazz had been right. Springing that kind of surprise on a pair just getting into the horny mechling stage of a pairing wasn't good.

Ratchet shifted a bit, coming further in as Ironhide pressed First Aid against the wall and got a hand between them to rub against the medic's interface panels.

The first touch earned a small squeak of surprise from First Aid, a sound that was quickly lost in the next moan of anticipation. The heated valve panel gave way to the exploring fingers, the mech it belonged to more than willing. With a grin Ironhide's mouth moved to sensitive neck cabling while his fingers rubbed lightly around the ruffle of platelets that surrounded the opening, just barely teasing it.

With a growl that was very unlike him the gentle medic bucked into the touch. It had been a while since he'd had a berth partner, even longer since he had a good one and he was quickly coming to want this mech he was holding. Bad enough that one of his own hands almost mirrored Ironhide's actions, seeking and teasing the warriors spark cover boldly. It snapped open just as fast, the spike beginning to slip from its housing and into First Aid's fingers eagerly. Even unpressurized it was thick, with a broad tip and the ridges and nubs of heavy modification.

"Yeah, good," Ironhide moaned against First Aid's neck and pressed two fingers into the slick valve, testing it for readiness and size. There was an answering purr from his partner as First Aid's fingers explored, tracing the shape and feel and each bit of additional knowledge only adding to the eager teek of his field.

"Very good." First Aid whispered, valve squeezing down around the invading digits, tight and hot and just as eager as the rest of him.

"Feel ready for the stretch?" Ironhide rumbled, eager and ready.

"Please." First Aid moaned, his field far more demanding the worded request. Heated and primed, his attention was focused on the older warrior. Testing, feeling, and learning, their audience forgotten in favor of the much more important task of pleasure and the mech who would sire his creation.

Ironhide rumbled in approval and withdrew his fingers. He caught one of First Aid's legs and pulled the knee up to his hip to press between and lowered his own hips to press the tip of his large, customized spike against the slick ring of First Aid's valve before slowly, very slowly, pressing upwards to sink into that incredibly tight heat.

"Tell me _grunt_ if it doesn't _moan_ feel right." Ironhide ordered as he slowly forced his way in.

"Yes." The word was a promise, pulled from First Aid as he surrendered completely to just _feeling_ each change with the slow penetration. Pleasure, intense and bright flared through his field. Sensation- pleasure that pushed that fine line into almost pain without crossing it- rippled through and out and into the mech holding him.

"Primus you're tight," Ironhide groaned, trembling with charge and barely at the halfway mark. "Gonna need a lot of practice with you _gasp_ to kindle."

"Think I'll like it." The trembling mech in his arms replied, helm falling forward into the crook of Ironhide's neck. This was better than he'd had in a long time- a mech willing to share good pleasure that wanted him. Another low moan escaped as a particular deep sensor node was activated, sending a surge of charge through him.

"Good," Ironhide shuddered as he finally buried himself as fully as he dared. There was still a fifth of his spike outside his lover, but he knew First Aid would stretch in time with experience. Right now it was far more important for the young mech to enjoy it. Slowly, just as slowly, Ironhide began to pull out, giving the valve a chance to feel empty.

The emptiness was felt, and expressed in a demanding whine at the _loss_ , the valve clamping down as much as it could the more Ironhide withdrew in an attempt to hold on. Ironhide refused to let him, withdrawing until only the tip was inside, then pressed forward again, just a little faster than before.

Strong arms wrapped around the warrior's shoulders as First Aid nipped and kissed at his neck, frame rubbing against Ironhide's as he tried to push down and take more, faster. It earned a deep rumble from Ironhide's engine and two strong hands landed on First Aid's hips, holding him still as Ironhide began to pound into him, deep, hard and relentless. Every thrust came a little faster, each time pressing hard against the cluster of nudes at the top of the valve. It had the mech in his arms keening in pleasure by the second thrust, each motion sending the pleasure through his field, suffusing his frame and pounding against his lover.

"Close," Ironhide managed to grunt as he pulled out, the next thrust in sent a surge through him as transfluid rushed through the sensor mat inside the tube in his spike to surged into First Aid, lighting up sensors deep inside that only went off with charged transfluid.

First Aid didn't even really have time to process the warning before his entire frame was alight with processor blinding bliss. Locked up, moving, crying out, he wasn't sure what he had done as he slowly came back to conscious functioning in the strong arms that held him tight. He was only aware of the wonderful warm afterglow and a deep feeling of sated satisfaction.

"Good frag," Ironhide mumbled against his throat, his spike still seated deep inside First Aid.

"Very good." First Aid agreed dreamily, hands moving to stroke the warrior's broad shoulders, and too content to even jump when a rough sound issued from the their forgotten guest.

"You two good for the moment, or should I come back later? And if you say later, I might suggest finding some place else besides empty quarters to recharge in when you both collapse." Ratchet grumbled, hot and turned on by the display and not wanting to show it.

"We're good enough," Ironhide chuckled and pulled out of his lover. He shamelessly teased Ratchet with a good look at the long, thick spike before it depressurized and slid into its housing. "I'll lay him out on a berth next time."

"Your berth big enough for two?" First Aid asked his lover, still leaning against the wall as he dug into his subspace and found a couple of standard buffing cloths. They weren't the best for dealing with transfluid and lubricant, but they would handle the worst of the mess in a pinch.

"Plenty big," Ironhide grinned, then offered him a couple rags when he spotted the buffing cloths. "This'll work better."

"Planning to move that thing, or should I looked into a berth instead of these?" Ratchet asked as he finally approached, a datapad in one hand and a smaller datachip in the other.

"What's this?" Aid ask as accepted the datapad offered him. 

"A collection of case studies that you haven't seen. Something to keep you occupied when Ironhide isn't, or when you have to start slowing down with the frame production." Ratchet said, well aware of First Aids interests.

"Thank you," First Aid flushed at his mentor's thoughtfulness.

"Ya coulda given him that at work," Ironhide teased.

"He'd just bring them home with him anyway." Ratchet informed him, offering Ironhide the datachip. "Music from Jazz, something new he says, and some new movies as well."

That floored Ironhide enough that he actually froze for a nanoklik. "Well now, I'll have ta thank him, and thank you. I think I know what we'll be watching tonight," he gave a meaningful rumble to First Aid.

"For background noise?" First Aid teased before his attention switched to focus more on his mentor. "Checking up on us wasn't your main reason for coming, is it?"

"And it definitely wasn't the gifts," Ironhide settled a steady gaze on one of the few other mecha that qualified as old.

"The humans have approached us with a proposal. They are interested in learning more about us- specifically how we 'propagate our species'." Ratchet started. "There is a researcher that wants to document First Aid's carry, hopefully from beginning to end."

"A lifelong protect for one of them," First Aid said with a bit of surprise. "Surely our medical records would cover anything he wished to know."

"She." Ratchet corrected automatically. "And the actual reasons for doing it this way, she might be able to explain better to you. I am not sure that I understand them all."

First Aid was quiet for a klik, then twitched in a small shrug. "I'd like to met her, but I'm fine with the idea." He said, looking over at Ironhide.

"Not like I'm shy about my parts," Ironhide shrugged. "Some things she'll need to watch remotely. No way I'd tolerate anything in the room with our sparks exposed."

"Details that can be worked out." Ratchet grunted. "She's on planet indefinitely right now. Talk it out between the two of you. Comm me when you want to meet her."

"In the morning," Ironhide decided, though he paused for First Aid to make an objection if needed.

First Aid just nodded in agreement though. "Let us know when and where?"

"I will speak with her, and with the others involved. While they don't have a direct hand in what is going on, Prime and Prowl are both interested." Ratchet said.

"It's a PC thing, I'm sure," Ironhide rolled his optics before leaning closer to First Aid, his field giving no doubt that he was inclined to stop talking and start groping again soon.

"I'm sure. I'll comm you in the morning. And for the love of Primus, if you are going to molest him at least take him home to do it!" Ratchet called as he showed himself to the door, well aware that the new lovers were already too distracted to think of such things.

* * *

As one of the very few permanent residents of Cybertron that was not a Cybertronian, Sandra Greendale had spent the first three months settling in and doing little other than riding her hoverboard around the capitol city of Iacon. Of course it helped a lot that by the local time scale it wasn't even a week ... seven orns, she reminded herself firmly. She'd spent more than half her life preparing herself for this and still she was thinking in Terran terms, not Cybertronian. From the age of ten she knew she wanted to spend her life with and studying these amazing beings. She was sure it was an ill-kept secret that the study she was going to do was only one of three dozen she was prepared to spend her life immersed in. It was just the one that an opportunity opened for at the right time for her.

So now she was sitting on a special human-access (read: built-in ladder) counter in the medical facility that served the elite of the Autobots, even if they were no longer called Autobots. Sitting, watching Ratchet hum and move around, quite content to simply watch him. That she went through thirteen sleep cycles for every one of theirs was something she'd already worked out and was rather proud of herself for it. Implants and supplements helped too, but she'd trained herself how to function in their world for years now.

And now she was here.

The door opened to the medical wing, and mech that she had only seen in vid captions until that moment entered. "Ratchet." He greeted the senior medic, the tone a balance of professionalism and the warmth of a deeper friendship.

"First Aid," Ratchet turned to greet his protégé. "Sandra Greendale," he made a small motion towards the human.

"Hello First Aid," she waved at him with a winning smile.

"Hello Sandra." First Aid greeted her warmly as he approached the much smaller human. She was of the very rare pale variety, which immediately made him scan for skin cancers, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and multiple small braids along her head. Even rarer blue-gray eyes looked at him eagerly. Despite the unusual visual cues she reminded him of most other humans he recalled; small, fragile, but full of the odd determination that seemed to allow them to overcome great obstacles. "I understand that you wish to study myself and my mate."

"Yes. I would like to focus on the reproductive cycle, specifically the effects and changes in a carrier during the process and the separation process," she explained eagerly, standing to be a bit closer to his optic height. "I've studied the technical aspects, but medical files do not provide much insight into what happens outside a purely physical realm."

"And you are willing to devote most of your life to this?" The medic asked, responding to her efforts by bending down closer, already impressed with her enthusiasm and apparent determination.

"I have already devoted sixteen of twenty-six Terran years to this study. I am eager to devote the rest of them to it," she announced with absolute determination. "I understand I will be quite old when your creation separates."

First Aid nodded in understanding, his field teeking curiosity that the human could not feel, but that was there all the same. "And why this process, specifically?"

"It's a finite process I am likely to live long enough to witness beginning to end, new life is the cornerstone of all cultures and it allows insight into nearly every other aspect of a culture," she listed off the primary reasons. "As a being who is also capable of carrying new life and building the body inside my own, I have a curiosity about the parallels between such radically different yet similar processes."

The medic chuckled, but it was a warm, welcoming sound. "Then I hope you succeed in your mission. I am fine with the idea, but you still might have to convince my contract mate."

"Ironhide," she nodded, her own smile warm, easy and relaxed. "What are his objections likely to be?"

"He is a warrior type, and can be rather protective." This was something that First Aid had seen for himself over the course of the war, and he knew that even though the war was over, all of that coding was still alive and well in his mate. "Mostly likely he will have restrictions on when and where you are allowed to be present in person. He has not said anything to me about other personal ones, but those may exist as well."

"I understand. I am already aware that being in the room when a spark is exposed is not going to happen. Are there any restrictions or concerns you wish to discus while we wait for him?"

"Not right now. I cannot promise that I will react sensibly or logically once I am carrying or have a creation to care for." First Aid said, his words warning of change. "This will be my first carry and my first creation."

"And even though you are the most mellow of the carriers so far, it doesn't mean much when it's capable of making Prowl assault the terror twins over getting too close to his mate-carrier," Sandra chuckled, remembering the humorous way the story had been told. "I hope my generally non-dangerous nature and small size will be an asset when it comes to avoiding such extreme reflexes. I do understand your boundaries will change from time to time as protocols shift around."

"It will help," Ironhide said firmly as he walked in. "My rules are simple. Don't try to be in the room when a spark is exposed and don't walk in if I'm in recharge. I still tend to shoot first and ask what I hit later."

"If he thinks to ask," Ratchet snarked. "Mech has no respect for the work it takes to keep a crew functional."

"I do. I just don't suffer idiots well," Ironhide shot back smoothly.

Sandra and First Aid both relaxed and shifted to watch the snide banter between the two ancient mechs until Ironhide finally refocused on the human. "I'm pretty easy to predict, honestly. I'm a simple mech."

"Who shoots first," Ratchet piped up, only to be ignored.

"One of the modifications to our quarters will be a few bolt holes for you, in addition to full quarters for yourself," Ironhide told her. "Do you know your schedule yet?"

Sandra smiled and relaxed a bit more. "Since I need to rest for a bit over a joor thirteen times an orn, and the math is not perfectly even, over time I will be awake for all joors of your orn."

"We recharge, typically, for six joors an orn, though with the demands of the carry on both of us I expect it will be more. Possibly a great deal more for me," First Aid said agreeably, pleased that she had thought it out. "You will have at least two awake cycles in which we are in recharge per orn."

"That gives me time to correlate notes, write up the reports and explore Iacon," Sandra nodded.

"And there is much to explore, even if a great deal of it is still in the process of being rebuilt." First Aid agreed. "When did you want to start your observations?"

"As soon as possible," Sandra smiled warmly at him. "I would particularly like to remotely witness at least one attempt to kindle. I understand this involves a contract, but that is quite a broad term. What does that mean in this case?"

First Aid glanced at Ironhide, then motioned for Sandra to make herself comfortable as he started to explain. "Ironhide and I are bound by a creation contract. We have agreed to attempt to kindle, and to raise whatever creation will hopefully result from those attempts until the creation is an adult and able to care completely for itself. Once that point is reached we are both free to go our separate ways, with no further obligations to each other."

"I know it's your first creation," she looked at First Aid. "But what about you?" she looked at Ironhide.

He shrugged. "Carried two, sired seven, all under military contract. I'm fairly sure they're all deactivated. I know six of them are."

"How is a military contract different from a creation contract?" Sandra focused on what seemed an important distinction.

"Creation contracts are between individuals," Ironhide motioned between himself and First Aid. "A military contract is just part of the deal when you're military. Low ranks carry, higher ranks and survivors get to sire."

"Was just part of the deal. That stipulation has been done away with, like many other things." First Aid reminded his contract mate, recalling clearly and a little sadly all of the clauses that Ironhide had made sure were written into the contract between them about the right to refuse and free will.

"Was, right," Ironhide confirmed, though there was far less belief in it. "I'm an _old_ mech, and that's a very new law."

"Not that new," Ratchet growled at him. "Optimus scrapped it as soon as he found out."

Ironhide rolled his optics. "Just for those he was close enough to to keep control of. Didn't make much difference for the majority. Energon rationing did that. Can't carry on those rations."

* * *

They had already been watching the vid when Sandra rose from her sleep cycle, and had politely paused it while she fetched fuel for herself and joined them on the large central piece of furniture in the main living room.

Or more accurately, settled herself across the back of what reminded her of an earth sofa, a vantage point from which she could observe both the vid and the mecha cuddled together below her.

This was one of their routines that she had been able to observe from the beginning. After a while she had figured out that at least initially the relaxing time with just the physical contact of frame and the electro-magnetic fields that served Cybertonians in place of many of the visual cues of her own race was a desire of First Aid's more than Ironhide's. Though the older warrior seemed to have little trouble warming to the practice, or his mate.

She'd also learned that while the snuggling was First Aid's thing, the movie choices were definitely Ironhide's. Most of them had been imports from Earth, which had surprised her even as she realized it shouldn't have. The native entertainment industry had not just been decimated, it had been gutted, razed to the ground and the copies torched. Which was bizarre to her, given it was all digital. She was still trying to work her brain around how they'd lost so much when they were walking storage facilities.

However it worked, it meant that the local entertainment industry was still very limited, even more than eight hundred Terran years after the war ended. It still took her by surprise at moments when she didn't remember than it had barely been ten local years, the vorn, since they'd settled on what was essentially a stripped, barren sphere of metal.

The monster vs. humans was a classic format from nearly a millennia before. Popular enough that it was still known by its first popularized monster star: the Godzilla flick. She wondered, absently, if the popularity had been helped out by these beings who could vividly remember those first bizarrely fake vids.

The peaceful setting before her was another sign of how well the couple was settling in, despite their almost polar opposite core programming. It had been interesting just listening to other mecha compare the couple, and the predictions that the two would part ways while they still could. Written into the contract was even an escape clause that one or the other of them could walk away at any point before a new spark was kindled. Only then were they locked in.

As the credits started to roll hands also began to wander in familiar way. Despite how very non-organic they were, she found herself quickly aroused by it, memories of having a lover brought up by the soft moans, kisses and how unbelievably familiar their sex -- interfacing -- was to her own.

It wasn't long before Ironhide had pushed First Aid to his back and the white mech's legs parted for him to settle and rub their groins together. The scrape of metal on metal would hurt most human's ears, but she'd found it appealing before she understood what erotic was. The years and upgrades she'd made since had only made it that much easier for her to find it appealing.

Simple observation made it easy to tell who was the dominant mecha in this aspect of the relationship. Not that First Aid seemed anything less than absolutely willing and eager from where he was pinned beneath his lover.

Skillful red hands traveled of the warrior's frame, slender fingers finding from memory all of the places that would make Ironhide growl and his engine rev.

It was only minutes, not even a quarter breem, before Ironhide had sunk his spike into his lover and both their frames revved with the energy the friction and pleasure brought. It was something she'd always meant to ask and kept forgetting. Was Ironhide unusually fast, or were the vids she'd watched, while not described as porn, more drawn out than was normal. Being a warrior, she could easily believe he was given systems that could rev up and get to the point quickly, but then First Aid seemed to keep up well enough.

Just watching them, the heavy red mech thrusting his hips against his lover's with a steady clanging rhythm, was more than enough to make her wet between her legs. She really hadn't expected it to be quite this hard to concentrate while they mated. Neither of them had ever been the least bit shy about performing in front of her or for her since she had moved in with them either. She understood from the medical files that this had nothing to do with actually creating a sparkling in this stage of the process, so it must serve as relational bonding thing. Again, something their species had in common. Sex and procreation were more tightly linked than interfacing and procreation, but it had been centuries since an unwanted pregnancy had happened among humans as far as she knew.

It was very pleasurable bonding activity, if the moans and cries of First Aid were anything to go by as he alternatively egged his lover on and pleaded for more. Ironhide was quieter, most of his vocalizations grunts that match his thrusts for timing, but the vibrations of those deep, resonant sounds went right to her womb in the most irrational of ways.

When Ironhide's grunts dropped to a sub-audio range she knew to brace for the roars and keens and to make sure she was carefully insulated and away from the crackling energy of their frames. They had no intention of harming her, but she also knew that they had little to no control lost in the energy of their overloads. And while safe and very pleasant to one of their own kind, even the edge of the field was over-whelming and often dangerous to someone of her size.

The warmth and good feeling when they were done though, the contentment that even she could sense as they came down from the highs and basked in the bliss, that was worth the potential danger of being nearby.

"Get ta yur room," Ironhide rumbled from where he was covering First Aid.

For a few seconds Sandra froze, trying to process the drawled order in such an old dialect of English before she scrambled off the couch and towards her apartment. It had remote access cameras where she could watch several locations and angles in their bedroom and the living room.

"Get ta know your spark?" Ironhide asked between kisses that were quickly growing heated again.

"Like that." First Aid answered between the kisses. "Make sure that this is going to work."

The last test before they started actively trying to kindle, the feeling of each other's sparks. Their frames knew pleasure. Their processors knew reason. But it would be the sparks that would be the final test of the potential success of the match.

"Another round," he thrust into First Aid eagerly. "And she'll be safely in her hole."

"Yes." The medic agreed, one leg curling around the warrior's hips, spreading himself for his lover and trying to draw Ironhide even deeper. It also made for a very good display, and First Aid laid himself out shamelessly for the warrior above him. Coding aside, he enjoyed making a lover's engines rev hard, and Ironhide always obliged with a display of availability like this.

"You do know what I like," Ironhide rumbled as his mouth found First Aid's neck cabling and scraped his denta along it while his hips began to drive into the tight, slick heat he was already buried in. "Good at giving it too."

"Had time to learn." First Aid pointed out as his helm fell back, offering the vulnerable cables and wires fully to his lover. "Enjoyed doing it too." He moaned, hips rolling up to meet each thrust of the large spike his valve had finally remodeled itself to take.

Ironhide's response was a moan muffled by First Aid's throat. This was exactly what he enjoyed. A willing, compliant lover. One who was shameless to spread himself below him and spread his legs for Ironhide's spike. One who liked to moan in response to the hard thrusts that Ironhide delivered. And one who would let go just as shamelessly, keening the warrior's designation with his second overload, his field filled with the bliss of pleasuring and being pleasured.

Ironhide roared with his overload, easily triggered by First Aid's, and shuddered, grunting and grinding as he pumped burst after burst of crackling transfluid deep into the ambulance until he shuddered in the crash of the charge dissipating.

"You're'a really good 'face," Ironhide mumbled, honest in his praise.

"So are you." First Aid smiled as his hands came up to frame and trace the warrior's face, then draw him down for a gentle kiss. 

Ironhide happily hummed into it, only breaking the contact when he felt steady enough to carry his lover if need be. "Berth, I think. Best for a first time."

"Yes." First Aid agreed simply, a shiver running through his frame as the spike was pulled from his valve. Even with the agreement he couldn't help but reach out, fingers tracing lightly down his lover's chest seem, caressing the thick armor and wondering at the spark it protected.

"Have you merged before?" Ironhide hummed in pleasure as he drew First Aid to his pedes and guided the pale colored mech towards their berth.

"Some, mostly early on with my brothers, when we were still learning. After that...during the war when we needed the comfort. Me more often then them." First Aid admitted as they moved.

"Then you know what to expect," Ironhide said, his engine revving eagerly as he guided First Aid to kneel on the berth, then joined him. Their chests flush, Ironhide kissed him, softly and passionately, the contact deepening gradually until they both felt the heat.

Fields mingled, welcoming, and in First Aid's case so very hopefully. Eagerness and hesitation danced around each other there as he kissed his lover and stroked the heavy armor, asking and exploring without demand. He knew from the files and from learning that Ironhide was a being of habit. If he'd done something often enough, there was a way it was to be done. He had no problem guiding, and First Aid thanked his natural coding that he followed directions so easily.

Strong red hands slid along First Aid's plating, encouraging the heat until they finally came to rest on the medic's chest.

"Open," Ironhide whispered between their lips. His voice was low, even gentle despite the fact it was an order. He'd already learned that first Aid did not require intimidation or demand. Even the most quiet of directions sufficed, so that was what the old soldier used.

Chest plates parted under his fingers, soft blue light spilling between them as the plating folded back for Ironhide's inspection. The crystal chamber shifted forward but remained protectively sealed, bringing with a flicker of shyness from the medic.

"Strong, bright, flawless," Ironhide pronounced as he reached in to caress the chamber ever so gently. "You will sustain a strong newspark."

First Aid keened softly at the praise and the tender touch to his spark. He had merged before, yes, but never like this. Never with a lover that he hoped to eventually create a new life with.

"Please." He asked, hands stroking Ironhide's own chest a little more firmly, needing more. The armor parted, though far more slowly than his had. It was thicker, the sequence more complex, the owner less trusting that the world could be safe for it. Yet within half a klik the strong light blue orb shown its light in the room, mingling with First Aid's.

"You may touch, if you wish," Ironhide said quietly, his harmonics revealing how serious it was to him to make such an offer. 

It was a seriousness that was treated with respect by the mech being offered the chance. First Aid moved slowly, smoothly, kissing his lover first in thanks before pulling back for better access. Each motion was clear, telegraphed well before it was made. Gentle fingers that knew the outside of the deep red frame as well they knew their own traced the edges of the armor plates before dipping in to skim over the over crystal reverently.

Even through the thick protection he could feel the strength and the resilience of the spark residing there, strong despite having survived so much, or maybe strong because of surviving.

It made him shiver, and boldly lean forward to touch the chamber with the softest of kisses. "We will create a beautiful spark."

"Yes," Ironhide shuddered with a pleasured moan at the contact. His entire frame went utterly still, offering the safety to touch without wondering if there would be movement among such delicate parts. "Strong, balanced, _smart_."

"What we both desire." First Aid breathed against the chamber with a final kiss. "Touch?" He asked as he straightened back up, bringing their chests and spark chambers even.

"Yes," Ironhide said with a rich flare of anticipation. The ease of long practice closed the distance as he opened his chamber to allow the energy of his life force to caress First Aid unfiltered.

Old. Strong. Determined. Focused.

Yes, Ironhide's spark was all those things, but it was also growing weary. After so many wars, so many Primes, so much destruction, for the first time in its long presence the spark was questioning if it wished to remain to see the next Prime settled into power.

The questioning was accepted easily, knowing that it was not directed towards him or _now_. The warrior would not create with him and then leave him to fend for himself and a newspark. This was a much, much longer term questioning. Something for, to First Aid, the extreme future.

The spark touching Ironhide's was gentle, accepting, wanting the best for those in its care down to its very core. The brightness of youth still existed there, wounded but not destroyed by the war it had been called to function first in, and it reached out to offer what comfort it could to the weary spark. It was almost surprised, but utterly delighted, when the ancient spark all but folded into the comfort, willingly allowing itself to be enveloped and cared for.

The gentle blue spark welcomed the weary one even deeper, offering joy at the chance that now existed, and the raw hope that had been stripped from the tired one centuries before.

The outside world was ignored, forgotten for the moment. Here was peace. Here was light. Here was a calm center that had never truly known the way of the warrior or accepted violence as a way of life. Different, but accepting of the difference between them, and _happy_ with the other things it was finding.

The care and determination, the protectiveness and possessiveness, were all things that First Aid had been looking for, seeking, and was now finding. In return he realized that Ironhide wanted what he provided by his nature. Support, comfort, softness ... the old warrior wanted to come home to everything his real life wasn't.

Deep inside their sparks, both sides wondered at finding a good match in such a strange place.

~Good.~ First Aid whispered over the connection as he relaxed fully into the merge. This was everything he had been seeking, all that he had been hoping for. Their sparks accepted each other, balanced and happy between them. The last test had been performed, and they had passed. And now they could celebrate that fact.

Joy and happiness teased at Ironhide's spark dancing around and with the older spark as the energy between the two grew and mingled until it was too much for their frames to take.

* * *

A decaorn after signing the contract with Ironhide and First Aid to document the creation process, Sandra was still amazed at the time differential. Their week, a decaorn, was a full thirty-two orns long, which still made her wonder about the 'deca' in the translation. But still hadn't worked herself out of translating it to 'week' in her head, which meant a 'week' here was over a year on Earth. It was a long time the pair had been trying to kindle, to generate a new spark, and they didn't know if they'd succeeded yet. If they hadn't, she'd be shocked and a bit worried. After all, they merge at least a couple times an orn, sometimes more if they didn't have a shift. That was a lot of energy to pour into generating something that was nothing more than a ball of energy itself, at least to her understanding.

She was down to thinking of her seven-hour sleep cycles as naps though. At thirteen of them every orn, it was hard to think of it as sleep. When her mechs were recharging, she did let herself rest longer to catch up a bit on what she knew she was shorting herself on while they were up and about. For now she was rested, showered, fed and had a meal and a snack with her as she rode her hoverboard through Iacon's pedestrian traffic. The street traffic was going _far_ too fast for her. Just for fun she'd speed-checked an Enforcer on patrol and got nearly three hundred and thirty kilometers per hour, and he was passing no one, hanging out in the slow lane as it was.

Another adjustment that the pair she now resided with had made was adjusting their work cycles to compliment each other as much as possible. So when she had woken from her most recent nap she had found herself alone. Ironhide was out and doing she had no idea what. His duties seemed to rotate through patrols, training classes for defense mecha, maintaining their weapons stocks, judging new weapons, training for himself, and performing guard duty when the Prime still required it.

First Aid, on the other hand, was still performing his regular duties in the medical clinic, and had informed her that she was welcome to come and see him while he was there. So she zoomed in, glad that the doors moved fast enough for her to squeeze through without slowing down much and made the familiar set of turns to the large central bay where First Aid could usually be found. Today was no exception, the boldly patterned mech apparently just finishing up with a patient. He smiled at her as she whizzed in the door and motioned her to an out of the way corner as he gave final instructions.

"Sandra." He greeted her as the mech departed and he made his way over the workbench area that remained permanently cleared for her to park her board these orns. It also contained a comfortable chair with a built-in swiveling table for her to relax and work in. It also reclined and she often found herself sleeping there with a blanket, though she rarely remembered getting the blanket. 

"Good joor, First Aid," she smiled at him as she set the board to the side, against the wall where there was a human-sized shelf for things that were useful to her. Extra datapads, a workstation to access the mainframe of Cybertron for anything from records to art to trivia to games to schematics, a small refrigerator and heater for meals and the occasional trinket she'd picked up or been given.

"I trust you recharged well?" He said as he walked over.

"Yes," her smile warmed. "I'm trying to remember that there's no point to asking if you've kindled yet more than once every thirteen rest cycles. It seems like forever."

He laughed at the comment, amused and warmed by her eagerness. He was already very fond of the human that had come in their lives. "If we have, I am not yet aware of it. Would it put your mind at ease if I promise to inform you as soon as I _suspect_ we might have succeeded in creating a newspark?"

"Not really," she grinned. "It's not that I don't trust you'd tell me right away. I'm just excited at the prospect and excited means I always want to check in on things all the time. It's just human to want to check every day, but one of your days is more than thirteen of mine. Impatient human is impatient," she giggled.

"I will still inform you right away." First Aid promised as he leaned on the counter. "We are actively trying now, but as sparks that have never touched before the contract, it may still take a while."

"At least the trying is enjoyable. Or it certainly seems to be," she wanted to double-checked that she understood what she was seeing. "The files say that spark contact it all that is required, but you don't limit yourselves to that. Is the penetrative, tactile and hardline all just for fun?"

"Fun, sharing pleasure, at this stage yes. Once a newspark is formed continuing to join sparks will serve to strengthen Ironhide's bond with the spark, though it is not necessary for the spark's survival." First Aid explained. "Once I begin to form a frame the spark to migrate to the penetrative plays a role. The transfluild will be altered by creator coding in Ironhide, triggered by having an actively carrying mate. It will transfer code and materials to my frame to be used in the construction process."

"So the sire actually contributes, physically, to the frame?" She decided she liked that idea. "Did that develop to lessen the strain on the carrier, or was it to increase the influence the sire had on the creation?"

"Both. It developed during another time in our history when the population was low. By not leaving the carriers to fend for themselves it increased the chance of a healthy sparkling that would survive. The added influence that the sire was given encouraged them to take more interest in their creations. I could carry the sparkling to separation without any further influence from Ironhide, but my influence on such a creation would be far more visible, and most likely not result in the balanced creation we both desire."

Sandra nodded. "I've seen a lot in the literature about choosing who carries, but there is nothing there about how that actually happens, or how often the intended sire ends up carrying. Or at least nothing that survived translation. How does it work?"

"Any mecha can carry or sire, but most of us have inclinations to one or the other as a personal preference. Whether the code influences those preferences or is influenced by the preferences of the individual is something that no one has been able to work out yet." First Aid started as he reached for one of the tools he had been using on the patient present when Sandra arrived. It needed to be checked and calibrated, and there was no reason that he could not work and talk at the same time.

"Who performs which duty is determined by the intent of the mecha merging at the time of the merge. When Ironhide and I merge, I desire to carry and he desires to sire, so when a newspark is created it should attach itself to my spark. I am not sure that there are any documented cases where the _intended_ sire ended up carrying."

First Aid hesitated for a klik, trying to decide how to continue, before admitting. "Most cases where a sire ends up carrying, a newspark was not always intended. Or all parties were not in agreement on what was happening."

She sat in her chair and hummed thoughtfully for a few minutes as she entered data and notes to herself before speaking again. "From your experience, other than what you are focused on, is there a difference between merging for pleasure and merging to create? Does it feel different, last more or less time, or is the overload any different?"

"There is no difference that I have noticed. Though when you are in a merge, things like time and pretty much anything outside of the merge cease to exist." he replied after thinking about it. "That is one of the reasons that we are so careful about when and where we will merge."

"It leaves you incredibly vulnerable," she surmised easily. "It must be difficult for someone like Ironhide to feel safe enough to open himself like that."

"It is. Both because of his nature and his past." First Aid agreed, looking up as the main door slid open and another patient walked in. "And if you will excuse it, it seems as though this is going to be a busy orn."

Sandra nodded as the instrument First Aid been working on was laid aside, and the medic went to see to his patient.


	2. Good News

First Aid stopped just outside of the medical center, allowing Sandra time to get out and remove her hoverboard before transforming smoothly and reaching down to offer her a lift. He had decided to come in early this orn, for personal reasons, and since she had been up and about he had invited her to come with him.

Besides, if he received the news that he was hoping for, it would be worth seeing her face when she found out as well.

"Ratchet." He greeted his mentor as entered the main care center.

"First Aid, Sandra," the old medic looked at them in surprise and they both felt the powerful scans wash over and through them, though it was all directed at the mech. "You're here early. Have you felt anything?"

First Aid smiled, his field warm and excited enough for even Sandra to pick up on the difference as he walked over to place her at her station. "I think so. Which is why I made it a point to come in early today."

"Then get on a table and let's see what's going on," Ratchet motioned him to a medberth. "What symptoms have you had, and for how long?"

"Wanting more energon than normal, even accounting for the merging and interfacing I have been participating in. A small increase in the demands being placed on my spark. And Ironhide commented that I felt off last night after we merged." First Aid informed him as he laid down, listing all of the classical signs of a carrying mech. "I started noticing the first two about three orns ago."

Across the room, Sandra perked up sharply, her entire body going tense with anticipation and excitement.

Ratchet simply nodded and began the scans. "How often do you merge with kindling in mind, on average?"

"At least once an orn. Sometimes twice an orn. We've been hopeful, wanting it. Not desperate though." First Aid said, at ease under Ratchet's thorough care.

"And how often do you merge without that as a focus?" Ratchet asked while he studied the readouts. "Expose your spark."

"Every third or fourth merge?" First Aid guessed, trying to figure it up as he obediently opened his chest plates. "Ironhide is...nice." He added shyly.

"Nice enough you're starting to have thoughts of trying to keep him past the contract?" Ratchet asked cautiously as he studied First Aid's spark with a new instrument.

"No." First Aid vented softly, the initial response a little delayed. "But I am very happy with the mech I am trying to create with."

The delay earned him a sharp look from his mentor, but Ratchet remained silent on the subject. "You may close up, carrier. It is strong for its likely age."

"So I can give good news tonight?" First Aid asked, needing to be extra sure even though he vibrating with excitement as he sat up on the exam table, armor snapping shut protectively.

"Yes," Ratchet smiled warmly and clasped his shoulder. "There is no doubt. Your newspark has taken, settled and is strong and stable. I'll log your new medical status in the system momentarily."

Across the room, a delighted and decidedly organic squeal mingled with clapping and the low thump of jumping up and down.

"Thank you." First Aid thanks brushed against his mentor before he turned a smile on Sandra. "And you get to know before Ironhide." He teased her.

Sandra grinned at him. "I'm going to have the hardest time sleeping until tonight."

"You might wish to watch from your room." First Aid informed her. "I am hoping that Ironhide will be _very_ pleased when I tell him." He added with a purr.

She giggled and nodded. "I will. How long will it be until your internal monitors begin to provide data on the newspark?"

"Another decaorn or so, since we are guessing a little on the formation orn right now." First Aid was still delighted, glowing with happiness. "Would you like me to try and record copies for you to view?"

"Absolutely!" Sandra was grinning like a fool and didn't care.

"You two have fun squealing like new moms. I have work to do," Ratchet huffed, but it lost all its scorn at the way he was grinning.

"I can work." First Aid huffed in return, moving away from Sandra to start in on his own tasks for his shift, though there was an extra bouncing his step and a brightness in his field.

* * *

Ironhide took one step into the room, his back pede still outside the doorway, holding it open as he froze, assessing what was _off_ in his home. Optics and sensors swept the entry-living room, taking in his mate, who was all but vibrating, and the distinct absence of the human that was almost perpetually near the medic.

"Sandra's already in her room for the night." First Aid informed him quietly, optics locked on his mate.

"For the night, mmm?" Ironhide's optics swept eagerly over his mate as he finished coming inside. "Any reason why?"

"She got very good news when she went in to work with me today. And she is very eager for me to share that news with you." First Aid teased, his field flaring brightly to brush against his mate as Ironhide approached.

"Which means it was good news for you," he rumbled, reaching to draw First Aid against him and claimed a heated kiss. "So what is this good news?"

"Ratchet officially entered me into the system as a carrier this orn, after he confirmed that I am now carrying a very 'bright, healthy newspark'. Approximately six orns old." First Aid informed his mate and was rewarded with a huge grin, flash of joy-pride and hard kiss.

"Well then, it's time to celebrate," Ironhide growled before claiming another kiss while his touch turned distinctly amorous.

"That was my thought." First Aid purred as his hands trailed down his mate's broad chest to rub suggestively at the at the already warm spike cover. It snapped open readily, allowing the thick spike to extend and pressurize against First Aid's hand.

While that was happening, Ironhide backed him against the same spot where the old warrior had originally taken him in this apartment. "I hav'ta admit, I'm looking forward to simply enjoying merging again, and doing it less often," he murmured against First Aid's throat cabling as his hand found the mech's valve cover and rubbed it.

"Me too. Like merging with you." His mate purred as he leaned back against the wall, allowing it to support his weight as his valve cover slid away and hot lubricant spilled out.

"You're spark's pretty nice too," Ironhide rumbled and pressed his fingers into the valve he very much enjoyed. Stretching and teasing to make sure it was ready.

"Looking forward to this often as well." First Aid hinted with a hungry moan and stoked and caressed the stiff spike, fingers playing and teasing the very familiar shape.

"You'll have it," Ironhide's engine growled as he lifted one of First Aid's legs. He waited only long enough for their hands to get out of the way before thrusting in with a single powerful thrust.

First Aid cried out, the sound one of utter pleasure as he grabbed on to his mate's sturdy frame, burying his face in Ironhide's shoulder as his valve squeezed around the thick spike. He knew how much Ironhide reveled in him simply quivering, holding on for dear life as that long, thick spike pulled out and slammed back in again and again. Ironhide's free arm braced him against the wall, pinning First Aid there with his frame and using the full power of his warbuild to drive himself into the medic again and again.

It was the perfect setup, in it's own way, filling both of their needs. Even now the arrangement never failed to drive First Aid to overload quickly, his first released muffled against the thick armor of his mate as his field flared into Ironhide. The old warrior's field flared hot and bright in reply, but he never slowed down. He could often draw two or even three overloads out of First Aid before he was overcome and pumped his hot transfluid deep into the medic.

They stood there, panting, enjoying the hazy of coming down for a moment.

"Berth? Want to spread your legs and fill you till you're bursting," Ironhide shivered at the words of his desire.

"Yes." First Aid moaned, just eager as he raised his helm to nuzzle his mate and make his own request. "Your spark too? For the newspark and our pleasure?"

"If we have the energy," Ironhide rumbled, and though there was a bit of disappointment, his field gave no doubt that there would be a merge. The warrior's coding all but demanded it when his carrier had asked. For the good of the newspark, that merge came first, when they both had the energy to make it a strong overload.

Before First Aid could think about whether to protest or not, he was on his back on the soft berth and his mate was over him, his chest plates parting. The answer of First Aid's own frame and spark was instant, but with the first touch of the sparks there was a flicker of apology from the lighter colored mech.

Not at asking for something for the good of the newspark glowing next to his own, but at having disappointed his mate.

Ironhide's spark and field flared back, accepting the apology even as he insisted it wasn't needed. ~Simple mech. Simple desires.~ Ironhide reminded his lover as their coronas mingled.

~Good creator. Good mate.~ First Aid replied, his spark rubbing against Ironhide's, glowing and sharing the joy still burning there from the news. It mingled with the pride and joy that was Ironhide's response to being a sire again, and how much it meant to the old warrior that his carrier _wanted_ to be a carrier. Lingering in the background was also how novel an idea it still was to him, to create without an order from a ranking officer to do so.

~No.~ There was a moment of protectiveness there, fierce and strong from First Aid. ~Our. Ours to raise in a time of peace and hope.~

~Novel,~ Ironhide repeated. ~Like the idea. Raised and trained so many to deactivate. This one raised to be something else.~

~If it wants to follow in your pede-prints I won't fight it.~ First Aid promised as the merge swirled deeper, growing with stronger with the shared emotions of pride, hope, and joy.

~I won't either, but I'd rather it didn't. All the others did. Watched every one deactivate.~ Ironhide murmured, willing himself to be lost in the building pleasure.

~New world. New creation. New life.~ The spark against his soothed as it was welcomed, comforted, and pointed in the direction of strengthening that light and future in the bliss of a powerful overload.

* * *

First Aid stretched on the berth, optics off as his field reached out. It came back empty, and he sighed softly. He had known that Ironhide was going to be leaving early that orn, but that still did nothing to lessen his desire for mate's presence.

A demand for fuel popped up, and he gave in, rolling from the berth to his pedes and making his way into the main living area.

"Morning First Aid! Recharge well?" Sandra called, waving to him from her favored writing spot on top of her apartment in the corner of the living room where she could look out over their home.

"I did. Thanks. How long have you been functioning?" First Aid asked as crossed the room to the energon dispenser and dialed himself a double ration.

"Half a joor. Ironhide was already long gone by the time I was moving." She answered easily.

"I was too deep in recharge to realize when he left." The mech admitted as he came over to sit with near her. After his firs few sips of energon he opened a line to her terminal and transmitted a packet of data.

"There is the latest copy of the readouts of the newspark, along with tags so you can correlate the readings with the standard medical files. Are you still finding this as interesting as you first thought you would?"

"In the strange way of documentary writers, yes," she chuckled. "Every orn shows growth, but it's not completely steady. I have seen a correlation between how much growth there is and your interfacing activities, not all of which will make Ironhide happy. But if the growth is good by your norms, I wouldn't tell him."

First Aid chuckled. "You mean the spikes in progress on those orns when we merge? He'll be much happier once the protoform starts construction, and after the newspark migrates he will have full reason to indulge us both to his spikes content."

"Yes, that. So it's a known thing, that too much spike is bad for a pre-protoform newspark?" she asked. "It's not really mentioned in the literature."

"It doesn't have a known negative effect." First Aid said, then frowned. "Unless you are finding otherwise. Sparkmerging does have a proven rate of growth increase."

"I might be taking the baseline as a lack of growth," she admitted. "I do know the orns where you overload more in ways not a spark merge the growth is lower. That could just be the merging as pushing it above the baseline, rather than what I figured."

"I would say-hope- that is the case." First Aid said, his field swirling with a faint hint of anxiety. "If you pull up the charts and look at the comparison between carriers who actively merge with a mate while carrying as compared to those who do not, there is a distinct difference. Those who do not merge have a much more level growth rate. Though we can also have Ratchet look at them too."

"There is also just normal variance orn to orn," she reassured him. "I don't have that many to go on, just enough to think I see a pattern. Remember, human speaking here. A decaorn is a _long_ time to us when it comes to patterns."

"And almost no time at all to us." First Aid agreed. "It will be many of your years before the newspark is even self aware."

"I remember," she assured him. "It's just very exciting to finally be working and seeing data come in."

He considered, studying her for a bit. "Do you intend to remain here on Cybertron the entire time? Or will you return home for a bit?"

"The plan is that I stick with you the entire time," she cocked her head, curious at the question. "So I go where you go. I expected Cybertron the entire time, but..." she shrugged.

"I did not know if you had any desires to see your world again. Or if you had other plans. I know that you are capable of procreating yourself." First Aid commented as he sipped at his enegon.

"Maybe when I'm older I'll feel the urge. I'm still pretty young to be baby crazy," she gave him a lopsided grin. "I like sex as much as the next girl, but I'm not so good with the relationship thing. It takes some serious focus to get where I am at twenty-six; doesn't leave much time for anything else. I'd probably go with a screened sperm order if I want a kid. Which is kinda like what you and Ironhide are doing, just without the enjoyable part."

"And raise it on your own?" First Aid asked, leaning closer and very curious as to the human thought on this.

"If I want to have a kid that bad, yeah, unless I hook up with somebody on Cybertron," she shrugged. "I'm not exactly species fussy, just really short on time and energy to devote to a relationship."

First Aid nodded in understanding. "If the coding had not activated in me, I would have never searched for a mate. I was very happy with my work."

"And you will be again, when your creation is mature enough not to need you full time, or do you think the coding will prompt you again soon?" She asked, even though she knew the literature said no one had worked it out. Individual variance and all.

First Aid shrugged, a gesture he had learned on Earth long ago and found himself using once again when Sandra had moved in with them. "I do not know. Some if it may depend on how well I like being a creator. The coding does not need to be active for us to create, though we are practically driven too when it does prompt us."

"Any expectations there, on if you'll like being a creator?" she asked.

First Aid rubbed at his chest over his spark thoughtfully, contemplating the idea more than he had in a long time. Now that he was actively carrying the code was only prompting him to do what was best for the spark, not driving him relentless to find a mate and create, and he could actually consider what he, they, were doing.

"I do not know. I know that I like being around the sparklings that have been created already. I have the same coding to protect and care for them, mine or not, that is typical of my kind. My medical coding may play a role in that as well. Whether that will translate into a desire for multiple creations will remain to be seen." His next expression was one of sad affection. "Most likely after you have completed your study and passed on to the Well."

She nodded. "I would be surprised if your spark had recovered enough to create again before then. Even if I have a long life for a human, I'm unlikely to last much past its first vorn. That seems very fast, when records indicate that it's usually a thousand vorns between creations even for those who create often."

"Tradition sees a creation through its final upgrades and well settled, often with a potential mate, before creating another. There is probably some base coding behind that." First Aid agreed. "Even those with the current oldest sparkling- Prowl and Jazz- have given no indication that they are expecting to create again soon."

"Rhythm is seven vorns old, not quite a tenth of the way to a youngling, correct?" Sandra double-checked.

"For one of his predicted frame type and size, yes. He still has many vorns to go before he will be ready for those upgrades, though there will be many small upgrades before he's a youngling. Mostly armor rebuilds as his protoform increases in size. This would also be when most true specialist upgrades are decided upon so the spark devotes enough energy to them to incorporate the final ones when they are mature enough. Otherwise the protoform would grow too much to be supported with the upgrades." First Aid rambled on, but Sandra was happy to let him.

"Upgrades like what Prowl, Red Alert and Blaster have?" she guessed.

"Yes, like those. Mirage and Hound also have such upgrades. Of them, Red Alert's were installed too late to integrate properly."

"That's why he has so many psychological issues?" Sandra asked. "What about Prowl's?"

First Aid grimaced. "Prowl was far better adapted, but it was -- _is_ \-- experimental technology. Both of them have sparks strong enough to power a frame the size of Prime's."

Sandra paused. "So Prowl's spark is larger, stronger, than Jazz's, even though they're the same frame size?"

"Much stronger, though not that much larger. Spark size doesn't completely correlate to spark strength." First Aid tried to explain. "It's almost an energy density differentiation." 

"So Omega Supreme and Bumblebee have the same sized spark?" Her pale eyes went a bit wide.

"Those two do not, but it would not be beyond the realm of possibility. A spark also tends to adapt to the individual spark chamber, and chamber size does correlate to frame size to a degree." First Aid laughed softly. "The physics of our own sparks are still something of a mystery to us as well. They are not just _physical_. They are...more."

"They're your soul," she said simply, fully aware of having walked squarely into dangerous philosophical territory back on Earth. "They last beyond when they extinguish."

"Yes." First Aid agreed simply, not all put off by her statement. "Some even believe that they go to rest and then return again, at the will of Primus. There are elements to our sparks that science and medicine cannot explain."

"Which is why you still have religion," she smiled slightly. "When science advances enough to explain it all, you won't need that anymore. It still amazes me that you are mechanical, live on your god's body, know it, and still have unanswered questions on the nature of your sparks."

"If science ever advances that far." First Aid responded with an easy smile of his own. "We are also a race in a state of constant change. As soon as we find an answer, we also often find another question. Speaking philosophically, there may never be a final question with a definite answer."

"True," she hummed. "It may just be my simplistic human brain, but I have a hard time with the idea of there being no possibility of learning all the answers eventually. But I also sucked at philosophy on that level. Never could wrap my mind around the concept that there was the potential for a question that could be thought of but never answered."

"Some orn we may know all the answers. But since I doubt it will be an orn that I will see, I am content with finding answer to the questions I have, and adding my knowledge to others." First Aid concluded. "And on the subject of questions, do you have more about the readings?"

"Can't say I do," she accepted the end of the religious topic gracefully and privately noted to not bring it up again.


	3. Awareness

First Aid moaned loudly and arched up against his mate's broad chest as his valve was stretched and filled. It felt amazing, it always felt amazing, and the heated kisses that came with the thrusts only intensified his pleasure. His mate was so good to him. Any doubts and reservations that First Aid's spark or processors had once harbored at the match were long gone. Ironhide was everything that he wanted and needed in a mate. A strong protector that would provide for him and the newspark, one that would stand with him and raise the new the life that they were creating.

And one that he was finding meshed on a personal level rather well. 

"More." He pleaded around kisses, his own frame doing little to return the pleasure met each of his mate's thrusts and reveled in the feeling of being held and pleasured in a way that felt so good.

"Much as you can take," Ironhide moaned deeply.

"All of it. All of you." his mate moaned with the next deep thrust, his field flaring out as the thick spike struck every sensory node in his valve.

It had taken some adjustment on First Aid's part to accommodate his mate, but Primus had it been worth it and Ironhide had been very patient with him. The next sound to escape the medic was a keen of bliss, generated by the charge roaring through him.

~Spark!~ a thought echoed threw First Aid, insistent and eager.

In the hazy aftermath of an overload it took a moment for First Aid to register what he had just heard. When his processor finally pinpointed the voice his entire frame locked up in shock and awe.

"Aid?" Ironhide stilled himself in concern.

" _He_..." First Aid started to tremble beneath his mate, then one had moved to cover his own spark as the other rested on Ironhide's chest. "...merge. He wants...I _heard_ him."

The old warrior gave a confused look for a moment before a bright grin crossed his features. "Then we merge," he rumbled eagerly, his armor unlocking and parting.

"He spoke." First Aid murmured, still caught by that fact even as his armor mirrored the actions of his mate perfectly. "He spoke to me."

"Big step," Ironhide rumbled as their chambers spiraled open and the leaders from their sparks reached out for the familiar energy so nearby.

"Good step?" First Aid asked his made, shuddering as the first tendrils of energy connected between their sparks. ~We are, little one.~ He said, reaching out to the voice.

"Yes," Ironhide rumbled into a groan of pleasure. "Good, in time, reasonable demand."

~Then we should give him what he wants.~ First Aid purred, grasping his mate's helm and pulling Ironhide down for a kiss as the merge deepened. ~Strong spark. Our spark.~

~Yes, _ours_ ,~ Ironhide moaned, excited on a very visceral level at having more to do with his new creation than the occasional instructor he had always been regulated to. ~Free to be what he should be.~

Joy and excitement echoed back, along with the wonder of a first time creator that was still glowing in First Aid at the first conscious touch of the newspark. His processor couldn't quite grasp still what had happened, even as his spark danced with his mate's to create the charge that would fill the request, the first word, of their creation.

~Going to be very strong,~ Ironhide moaned, his armor shivering even as their chambers held flawlessly still. ~So very strong willed.~ Less spoken than felt was the pride and anticipation that Ironhide had at what he now expected would be an unusually large newspark for his carrier's size.

~Like his sire.~ First Aid praised as he relaxed into the merge, admiration for Ironhide and hope that the mech was right, and that this newspark would be well suited for the world they were building.

~Strong will. Smart. Strong spark.~ Ironhide gasped across the strengthening connection as he _felt_ his creation for the first time. ~You'll do well,~ he directed at the tiny ball of energy before he lost track of everything other than the intense pleasure and the sensation of so much of that energy being absorbed by the newspark.

It was good.

* * *

Within a decaorn the newspark was regularly demanding additional energy when it was aware, but had also caught on to when First Aid wasn't in a position to give it even if it didn't understand why. It made evenings like this when the newspark was resting and First Aid could just snuggle with his mate all the more rare. There was movie waiting to play, but for the moment the pair were just snuggled on the couch, First Aid securely wrapped in his mate's strong arms and his helm resting on the deep red shoulder. "Was it like this for you at all?"

"No," he murmured in reply. "Military creations were about producing new warriors. Who you 'faced, when and in what way was a matter of orders. The up side was that _no one_ was rough with a carrier. Not in the berth, or out of it. For a lot of mecha it was a real benefit. Even that young there weren't that many that could force me anyway."

Sorrow whispered through the lighter mech's field, sadness at what his mate had endured in a time well before First Aid had even functioned. "But the actual carrying?" His fingers brushed softly over the broad chest, lightly caressing the armor that shielded the strong spark.

"Well, yeah," he hummed, his engine purring softly. "It varies a bit, but yeah. My two were never as talkative as Pass It Along. Might have had something to do with both of us knowing I wasn't going to raise them. Might have just been them. Or I didn't want to hear."

"So you didn't really have a bond with any of them?' First Aid asked carefully.

"Nah," he shook his helm. "Wasn't safe for either side. Same as I didn't feel anything more for the other side than I did for anyone else in my unit, when they were in my unit. Most times they weren't. Kept the bonds weaker. Even when I was young they'd worked out the best way to get obedient warriors out of it."

"What about Pass?" First Aid asked, caressing the feeling of the spark resting against his own affectionately and almost reflexively. It was hard, as he touched that warm, bright light, to imagine resisting forming a bond with it.

"It's forming," Ironhide smiled warmly. "I get the strongest flares of emotions even when we aren't merged. It's kinda weird, but I keep telling myself he won't be taken away as soon as a separates."

The mere mention of that idea was enough to make First Aid shudder and burrow deeper into Ironhide's arms. "Not here. Not now." He whispered.

"Not under Optimus," Ironhide stroked his arm soothingly. "They'll have to go through me first," he rumbled protectively. "This one is _mine_ , not the government's."

"Ours." First Aid relaxed, willing to trust in his mate and in the mech that had led them through a war that had almost destroyed them all. "Is carrying bad? Or separation? Jazz seemed to handle it fine, but he is _Jazz_."

"Yes, he is," Ironhide chuckled and kissed the top of First Aid's helm. "And yes, Pass It Along is _ours_. I can't say I enjoyed it much, but that was all due to lower mobility, thinner armor and much higher fuel requirements. Made me ... well, vulnerable. Don't like it. Don't think you'll have that kind of response. You've always been good with others protecting you."

"And you will." First Aid purred, sure of this fact as he tipped his helm up for a real kiss. His processor was distracted for a moment as well, trying to imagine a vulnerable Ironhide, and he had to chuckle a little at the image. "No wonder you prefer to be a sire."

"Mm, yeah, and it was a status thing. Only officers and survivors got to sire. You had to _be_ someone to sire. To sire as many as I did marked a warrior as very valuable," Ironhide gave him a long, rumbling kiss. "I liked being valuable, and I'll always protect my charges."

"I know. Perfect sire. Perfect mate." First Aid purred into another kiss, warm and secure.

"Flattery will get _you_ anything," Ironhide's rumble deepened as he shifted to lay back and drew First Aid on top of him. "Have to keep my carrier content."

First Aid laughed as he spread over his mate. "Then I will tell you exactly what will make me very content- your spike and your spark, filling me and feeding our creation."

"As much as you can take," Ironhide promised with a heated kiss as his spike cover slid open.

There was a purr of delight from First Aid at the challenge as he kissed his mate, deep and demanding, the movie forgot in the face of much more important matters.


	4. Construction

It was a new orn, and Sandra bounced from her small quarters into the main living section of the space she still shared with Ironhide and First Aid. Thirty-seven years into her study, and she was still unable to work completely on their schedule. No amount of tweaking that she was willing to undergo allowed a human to operate on a 'day' that lasted over 13 on Earth without severe repercussions to both mental facilities and lifespan. With a final twist she put her hair up, mind already focused on breakfast, and the files that First Aid would have left her before leaving for his shift at the medical center.

Only this morning there was no blinking light at her terminal. Instead, First Aid was sitting calmly on the couch, a datapad in one hand and a cube of medical grade energon in the other.

"Morning, First Aid." She called out to him.

"Good morning Sandra." The mech smiled down at her, then reached down a hand to offer a lift up to his level. "Did you recharge well?"

"Yes. Did you?" she asked, accepting the hand up. "Aren't you usually at work now?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes." First Aid said as he deposited her in her normal spot on the back of the couch. "However, there was a new notice for me when I came out of recharge this morning. The frame construction has started."

His smile took on a deeper look, and glint appeared in his optics. "Ironhide decided that was a reason to celebrate before he left. And the announcement also marks another change of status for me. My work hours have been cut in half."

"So much all at once?" she couldn't help her surprise. "You aren't showing yet."

"No, and I will not be for almost another metacycle. But the demands on my frame are now almost doubled. Not only is my spark supporting Pass's directly, but it is also supporting my frame as it builds the frame. The demands on Ironhide are going to increase as well, at least until Pass It Along migrates." First Aid explained.

"How much of that slow-down and reduction in hours is because you _need_ to?" she asked thoughtfully. "Many women work full time until the last week or two before delivery, but that's often a matter of needing to work, rather than what's healthy."

"I could continue to work much longer than I will." First Aid admitted. "It would place a strain on me, and on Pass. Right now with so much emphasis being placed on rebuilding our population, no one is willing to take that risk. There is a large difference between what I can do, and what I should do for us both. My energon needs are going to double at minimum, even with Ironhide's contributions. My need for recharge will also increase proportionally."

"And you'll slow down, something dangerous in the ER," she added, remembering that. "How prepared are your finances for the decrease?"

"Ironhide has a very respectable income. We have been planning and preparing for this time. And if for some reason we should run into an unexpected expense that we could not handle-" First Aid's tone indicted just how unlikely he expected that to be"-there are assistance programs for carriers and sparkling caregivers.

"That's always good to have, even if you never need them," Sandra smiled slightly. "A society that takes care of its most vulnerable is a good one. Though from what I've seen, neither of you are much inclined to go out or buy things. You both like the couch and movies a lot."

A soft chuckle was the initial response, followed by a more detailed and very honest answer. "That might well be due to our backgrounds. As a military mech before the war, Ironhide would not have had much in the way of non-weapons related personal possessions or hobbies. And during the war, luxury things were not available, and not nearly as valuable as comrades and friends."

"Perhaps, but many respond to the lifting of such restrains as a relief and opportunity to buy things, go out and revel in all the things they couldn't have and do before," she relaxed into just chatting. "I've seen more than a few mechs react like that. Both of you seem to be natural homebodies, and it's to your advantage in this." She paused. "How did Jazz handle being a carrier? He doesn't seem like one who would take inactivity well."

"Between the high demands being placed on his frame, a true concern for Rhythm, and a surprisingly indulgent Prowl, he somehow survived." Was the answer. "Though not before driving a few mechs almost to the point of a processor meltdown."

"Primarily Ratchet, I suspect," she giggled. "And anyone charged with keeping an optic on him. Why surprisingly indulgent? Prowl seems to be utterly smitten with Jazz."

"He is. Jazz, and now Rhythm, are the center of Prowl's universe. But his priorities were very different during the war. The Prowl you know functions very differently from the Second in Command of the Autobot army that I knew when I first came online." First Aid explained, then snickered. "And yes, Ratchet was one of Jazz's primary targets when he was carrying. One of his favorite things was to have Prowl come with him for a check-up. He could usually convince our normally reserved Planetary Defense Coordinator and Lawenforcer that he needed an interface _right now_."

"Which Prowl complied with, making mecha twitch because Prowl _just does not do that_?" she couldn't help but laugh. She may not have known Prowl the Autobot SIC, but she knew what an ultra-serious reserved person was like.

"And because Ratchet does not approve of that sort of thing in his medical facilities. Though not even he will deny an active carrier just about anything they ask for. Jazz took advantage of his status shamelessly." First Aid said, laughing as well at the memories. "But look at the bright side, with my work requirements so reduced, I'll be home for you to study more."

"As if we didn't already spend all our waking time together," she chuckled lightly. "What do you plan to do with your new free time, other than recharge more?"

"Study, research, and prepare for Pass's separation." First Aid said as he held up the datapad he had been reading. "Ratchet gave me a collection of interesting case studies when Ironhide and I first moved in here, hinting that I might be wanting them later. He has more when I finish this set. A great deal more of my time will be spent recharging though."

"More time for me to explore Iacon," she said easily. "What are the case files on?"

"Most of the cases in this set are Cybertronian. Spark anomalies. Various upgrades, both successes and failures. I have found one full frame rebuild. I'm looking forward to the ones that he has on what little we have done for treating non-Cybertronians."

"Little?" Sandra's face snapped up to stare to him. "First Aid, you two advanced human medicine more in the first vorn after you woke up than humans had in all of history."

"And humans are our closest ally now." First Aid said with a smile. "Despite our differences we have come to respect each other. We are _happy_ help our friends. These are case studies from multiple species. Some that I don't believe exist any more. They are still interesting, sometime they can provide insights to be used on others of another race."

"Any of them _very_ non-human?" She perked up a bit more. "Or animals?"

"Many of them are very non-human." Frist Aid chuckled." Though few of them are what you would classify as animal. And are you ever going to bring your friend for a visit?"

"Only if I can convince him Ironhide won't get weirded out," she chuckled. "He seems to be of the opinion that your mate isn't the tolerant sort for that kind of thing."

"I'll nudge him a little. He's fond of you, which would help for a short visit or two. And no danger to me, I am sure, so no reason he can't visit when Ironhide is at work." First Aid suggested.

"I'll talk to him again, and ... thank you," she smiled warmly as she tapped out a text to her lover, both the invitation and assurance. "It would be nice to see him more often."

"You are welcome. And after you are done there, I think I have kept you from your morning fuel long enough." First Aid reminded her gently.

Sandra blushed at the reminder as she tapped send. "There are days I swear I'd forget to dress if I see you up first," she murmured, half amused by her own forgetfulness in this land of schedules-not-her-own as she accepted his hand to the ground and jogged over to the small kitchen to make up a breakfast.

* * *

First Aid walked a little taller next to his mate, safe and secure at Ironhide's side, and rather enjoying the looks that he was getting. His thickening frame was starting to attract attention, and the normally humble medic couldn't help but preen a little at the attention.

Pass It Along was purring next to his spark, feeding off of his carrier's pleasure. The strong, bright spark was everything he should be at five metacycles into the process, and Ratchet had declared him textbook perfect at their check-up earlier that orn.

It was that news, supposedly, that had prompted Ironhide to deviate from their normal routine and convince his mate to go out for the evening. The truth they both knew was that Ironhide wanted to show off his visibly carrying mate, and by extension his virility. First Aid wasn't ignorant of the comments about the warrior's age. Ironhide was ancient by almost any standard.

To be truthful, he might usually be shy, but over this, First Aid was very proud of himself, his mate and his condition and he _liked_ the looks he got, the way mecha who came into the medbay brightened more than usual when he saw to them. For the most part, he let those who wanted to touch. It felt good to be desirable for more than his skills or because he was part of a gestalt. It was a little strange not to miss them much, but he saw them more orns than not, and it wasn't as if he'd spent that much time with them anyway with his function. Maybe when Pass It Along was older and Ironhide not so interested in him he'd miss their constant intrusions. For now, existence was _perfect_.

Sideswipe's bar was one of the rowdy ones, but Ironhide had no fear to take him in there, so First Aid wasn't worried either.

Noise had never bothered him much. It couldn't when you lived with four other mecha orn in and orn out for vorns. And since Ironhide wanted to make a point, it was very reasonable for them to visit one of his usual hang-outs.

Maybe later First Aid would see if his mate would be willing to accompany him to one of the quieter, higher end clubs. Ironhide wasn't the only one with something to show off, after all.

That thought was enough to make him smile, and First Aid's field reached out to brush against the large red mech's, full of pride and affection. Ironhide's returned the brush, feeling much the same.

"Ironhide, good to see you. And you brought such good looking company." Sideswipe grinned and waved cheerfully from behind the bar, drawing the attention of every being in the room to the new arrivals.

"Of course," Ironhide drawled with a grin. "Had to take you up on that free drinks for the night!"

First Aid could feel the optics traveling the length of his frame, and he knew that they were taking in every detail, from his thickening core to the healthy shine of his frame and optics. The cat-calls and whistles that followed a klik later, something that would have made him squirm in embarrassment before, only made him in smile in amusement now. At ease, he walked with Ironhide to the bar.

It helped some too that he recognized many of the mecha present. Comrades from his days among the Autobots, and more than a few that he was intimately familiar with the internals of.

"You've earned it, mech," Sideswipe grinned shamelessly. "What'll ya have, hot stuff?"

"Magma with a rust additive?" First Aid requested, picking something energy dense that would make his frame happy with the sweet flavor that he could sip on for as long as Ironhide wanted to stay.

"You got it," Sideswipe grinned, his field all but vibrating with pleasure that was long-standing. It wasn't just Ironhide's visit he was happy about, but existence in general, and he had been for a while.

Teeking that made First Aid feel warm. Sideswipe was one of those dedicated warriors that Ratchet had the most concerns with adapting to peacetime. Plus if Sideswipe teeked so psychologically healthy, his twin couldn't be in bad shape. Sharing the same spark if one was hurting or miserable it would show in the other.

The drink landed in front of him, along with a cube of magma with copper for Ironhide.

First Aid took a sip, purring in appreciation his field lighting with pleasure for Sideswipe to teek as the smooth fuel slid over his glossa and down his intake. Treats like this were something he still resisted, even at home and now when they could in theory afford such luxuries.

"Excellent." He praised, optics sweeping to take in the activity of the bar now that things had settled from their arrival. "Business seems to be going well."

"Going great," the former frontliner grinned, his field glowing with pride and pleasure as he served another customer. "If I knew peacetime could be this good, I'd have fought harder."

The statement earned snorts and snickers from those who heard it.

"Even Sunshine likes it most orns," Sideswipe added with a grin. "Something about being appreciated for his true talents."

"He paints what the officers like," Ironhide snorted. "He'll spend a lifetime decorating the city."

"If he is happy, maybe that isn't such a bad thing." First Aid said, teasing his mate a little before looking back at Sideswipe. "Maybe after Pass is on his own I'll have the credits to commission something small. Does he do anything from Earth?"

"Skyscapes, sunsets," Sideswipe shrugged with an easy manner. "Wasn't so fond of all the mud, dust, sand and insects of that planet. Sky was pretty though. He'll draw what you want if you're paying though."

The medic chuckled. "I'll come up with something. I can understand why he wasn't fond of it, but it is the first thing that I remember. To me, it's not so bad."

"You aren't fixated on your finish," Sideswipe snickered. "Planet wasn't that bad, even if it was sticky, gooey and full of things that went splat when you were driving. I thought its moon was a lot worse. That was just itchy _everywhere_."

"I know that you are talking about me, and just to be clear, they were both _awful_." The subject of their conversation stated as he walked up to join them, golden finish gleaming in the lights of this twin's bar.

"So you really did find yourself a mate." Sunstreaker mused as he planted himself on the stool next to Ironhide, keeping the old warrior between himself and First Aid.

"A very good one," Ironhide rumbled with pride. "Was with newspark quick."

"You helped with that 'quick'ness." First Aid pointed out, bumping his mate's leg with a pede and making both the former frontliners teek amusement.

"Old mech's still got it then." Sideswipe teased as he set a very sweet, very strong drink in front of Sunstreaker. "How is the newspark doing?"

"Strong, stable and according to Ratchet, in perfect condition for its age, as am I," First Aid slid a hand down his somewhat extended frame. "Everything is going just as it should."

"Free drinks and showing off." Sideswipe teased Ironhide as he poured himself a drink and leaned against the bar to socialize.

First Aid settled in his drink, content as he watched his mate socialize, among comrades swelling with pride at the praise and comments.

He was distracted enough that he didn't notice the mech approaching him from behind until the newcomer was on top of him.

"Heard it. Didn't believe it." A slurred voice commented. "Still not sure I do."

First Aid turned to look up into the red optics of a Seeker, Skywarp sneering down at him. The dark wings flicked in contempt. "Dunno what anyone was thinking, matching a warrior with a _medic_. If it's even a match at all."

A clawed hand reached out to First Aid's changing frame, and the smaller medic found himself twisting away. Normally he didn't mind when mecha wanted to touch and feel, even welcoming the attention. The overcharged field pushing aggressively against and hostile expression marring Skywarp's face only made him want to escape.

"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously, optics flicking over to where his mate was deep in conversation.

"Could not be carrying at all. Just a trick, like everything else." Skywarp sneered, one claw scraping a sliver of exposed protoform as it hooked into a loosened armor plate. "Just look like your carrying, with no creation at all."

First Aid's fear echoed to Pass It Along, who's distress snapped Ironhide's attention from his conversation. The old warrior was stalking over, a movement that caught Sideswipe's attention to where he was chatting with a table along the wall. It also drew the attention of others, including a few who had been Decepticons.

"Why would I lie about such a thing?" First Aid asked, trying to squirm away from the claws that could rip him open in a sparkbeat.

"Extra rations? Propaganda?" Skywarp sing-songed, his focus narrowed in on First Aid, his claws curling around to grab the plate and prevent his prey from escaping, making deeper gashes.

The panic that flared from First Aid only encouraged the overcharged Seeker, serving to confirm the wild accusations created by the clouded processor. "Maybe some bigger plan? 'Cause you always have a bigger plan to make yourselves 'better' than us."

"No one is preventing anyone from kindling!" First Aid countered, horrified at the very idea even as he realized that the only mecha to have created were former Autobots. None of the Neutrals. None of the former Decepticons. Only Autobots. Only Autobot _officers_. "Every sparkling is needed. We're far too few."

"Skywarp." Ironhide's rumble was dangerous, but still only a warning.

"Really?" Skywarp mocked, looking over at Ironhide as he pulled harder on First Aid, drawing a small whimper from the medic.

"An old mech like you? Can you even sire any more? Like you would with a worthless pacifist. What is it? False frame addition and a heat generator? Modifications to eat the extra enegon he's been consuming? Or have you just been selling that on the side?" The Seeker mocked.

"No!" First Aid's panic flared brighter. Raw, creator coded fear setting as the trapped feeling increased. Caught in a grip of a hostile force, not all of the mecha staring to gather closer registered as friends, and his entire frame started to tremble. "Please...leave him alone!"

"Him? Like...." the Seeker suddenly howled in pain as Sideswipe gripped his wrist and _crushed_ it with all the strength of a frontliner's heavily reinforced and strengthened frame.

Ironhide took the opening to pull First Aid away and into the arms and protective armor of Big Shot and Bluestreak. With his mate and both twins between him and the threat and fields he recognized as friends close, First Aid managed to relax some.

"You're overcharged," Sideswipe said firmly. "Go to medical for your wrist. I'm cutting you off for tonight."

"Tricks!" Skywarp howled, twisting free and abruptly vanished from the middle of the gathering.

~Okay. It's okay.~ First Aid whispered, trying to soothe a distressed Pass It Along even though he was still trembling a little in the protective circle of friends.

"Sorry about that," Sideswipe moved over to First Aid. "He's usually a lot more fun, not dumb."

"Did he do any damage?" Ironhide shouldered his way in to feel for it.

"Scratches." First Aid admitted, the rest of the trembling subsiding as the others parted to let Ironhide through, and the large, strong hands traced his frame.

He flinched as Ironhide found the shallow gashes in his protoform, the stinging sensation causing him to pull back on reflex. "Scared Pass." It had scared him as well, a fact that Ironhide was surely aware of even if First Aid was not going to admit the fact in front of so many witnesses.

"I know," Ironhide rumbled, his hand covering the damage without causing any pain. Just protecting it as he urged his mate to move with him. "Ratchet can see to the damage. Skywarp can explain himself to me when he's coherent enough to make sense."

"I'm fine. We're fine." First Aid assured him, leaning deeply into the comfort as he was guided from the bar. "We don't need to bother Ratchet."

All he wanted at the moment was to go _home_ , merge with his mate to sooth both his own spark and a still very quiet Pass, and then recharge in his mate's arms.

"It's fine for a non-carrier," Ironhide said firmly. "It was fine in the war. Now, for you, no. I want Ratchet to patch it up. Then I'll take you home and make you forget all about it." He paused to draw First Aid into a long, tender kiss.

The affection and care, warm and true, was settling to First Aid. He vented softly as his frame relaxed the rest of the way. "To Ratchet then." He agreed, not looking forward to seeing his mentor in this way, but very much wanting the comfort promised by his mate afterward.

* * *

It was one of the increasingly rare orns where First Aid, Ratchet, and Sandra were all together in the medical ward. First Aid's reduced work schedule had contributed to the change, and Ironhide's protectiveness had added to it, the large mech reluctant to let his mate out until the minor injuries delivered by Skywarp had been gone.

His first orn back, and First Aid was quieter than usual.

"You feeling okay?" Ratchet asked with genuine concern.

"Think Ironhide was going to track Skywarp down this orn." First Aid said, pausing for a moment to brush a resting Pass It Along with affection and to check on the newspark again. "Just been thinking about something that Skywarp said when he was coming after me, wondering about it a little."

"You mean that tin for processors actually said something intelligent?" Ratchet didn't hide his doubt.

"Not directly, but he accused us of manipulating things in our favor, like he was angry that I was carrying. Then I realized that the only mecha with creations are former Autobots." First Aid explained.

Ratchet stopped what he was doing and turned to face his apprentice. "You know what it takes to create. Not many with Con sensibilities can manage that kind of trust and desire. For Skywarp, the lack of a third is hindering his efforts a lot. Seekers were never designed to kindle without a full trine."

"I know." First Aid agreed. "It takes a level of trust and willingness to merge deeply enough to create. And as a whole Autobots have rebounded from the war better. But how many others are thinking the same thing?"

"From those I've seen, half a dozen, but two are Autobots," Ratchet shrugged. "I explain to them every time one comes in. Most seem to get it. Overcharged Skywarp not so much. Mech _does_ have tin for active processors."

"What sort of factors allow you to procreate? First Aid mentioned activated coding. Is that standard?" Sandra asked.

"The most important factor is a mutual desire to create," Ratchet smoothly shifted his focus to her and went into teacher mode. "Kindling, like bonding, requires intent. The next is the willingness to merge deeply enough for the desire to be given form and to generate enough excess energy to collate into a new spark. Frequent merging is very helpful in the first orns after kindling to ensure the newspark stabilizes. A strong bond, such as Jazz and Prowl have, is also immensely helpful, but less required.

"The coding activation is fairly rare, even under our current population crisis. Everyone has the coding, it's part of the procreation protocols. However for it to activate without a bonded mate, or at least a mate one merges deeply with is quite uncommon. First Aid's likely activated because his nature makes such a merge easy."

"So being an easy lay increases the chances?" Sandra teased First Aid before growing serious. "And what about Ironhide? Is his a creation coding thing too? Or more personal desire?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Ironhide's different on a lot of levels. To start with, he has military coding. A lot of work was put into that to ensure kindling happened on demand. He kindled nine times without caring about his partner under orders. He's also _old_ and knows that none of his creations are still alive, so the coding will want him to create again while his spark is strong enough to do so. You have two mecha with active coding together and it's not nearly as easy to fail."

"He is enjoying the difference in creating Pass." First Aid added. "What you have seen is very different from his past experiences in creating."

First Aid was glad to be a part of the change as well. From listening to Ironhide talk and what he had seen in the old mech's spark, he was still in awe at the will and resilience that had kept him functioning all this time.

"Which was at best coerced breeding," Sandra tried not to shiver at what she felt at the setup she'd learned about. "It sounded like they were treated as livestock, not people. At least this time he got to choose the who, even if it wasn't love."

"Not love." First Aid agreed with a smile. "But mutual enough, after some adjustment. And a creation that he will get to raise from beginning to end this time. As they all will hopefully. There are several couples trying without the coding prompting them, and if we are lucky there will be results soon. Physical shape has an impact as well, and as more mecha return to fully functional status focus will shift from healing to rebuilding, if Primus is willing."

"Yes, no mecha that is in less than optimal condition with a clear prospect of sufficient supplies will normally kindle," Ratchet agreed.

"Then how did Cybertron end up with such a massive overpopulation that it couldn't support itself?" Sandra asked. "If you don't kindle without resources, how did there become poor masses?"

Ratchet was silent, and First Aid was quiet as well. This was a question for the older mech, one who had lived through that time.

"Foolishness, greed, and pride, mostly." Ratchet finally concluded. "We are a race that generally lives for a very long time, as most races measure things. More mecha were being created than were deactivating. And before the war there was a way to spark frames, fully adult ones, into functioning. Creating mecha by this means went rampant, those with the credits who wanted cheap labor _buying_ sparks by the dozens, and then simply discarding those who failed to perform."

"Consumerism taken to the ultimate level," Sandra murmured, more than a bit sickened by finding _that_ similarity between their races.

Ratchet sighed softly. "Yes. And a Prime and a government so wrapped up in themselves that they didn't care about the world that was falling apart beneath their very pedes."

"Sometimes I wonder if any government more than a couple generations old, or that governs more than a few dozen can ever keep itself focused on the fact that stability and prosperity for most are required to last in the long run," she murmured. "That story, in some variant, has been repeated so many times in human records I can't even count them all."

"It would be nice if someone would figure it out." Ratchet grumbled. "They are taking steps to prevent it from happening again, but when enough generations have passed that no one lived through it or the aftermath?" The medic gave a very human shrug.

"What happened to this method of producing work-ready adults?" she asked.

"The key was lost, and a sentient filter took its place. It is also, for all purposes, illegal now." Ratchet said. "That was one of Optimus's first edicts."

"Not all mecha who were called that way failed in their functions." First Aid added. "But the learning curve could be very uncomfortable. And if there is no _need_ , no spark should have to endure it."

"You were one of those, weren't you?" she tried to remember.

"My brothers and I were." First Aid confirmed. "As were all of the Aerialbots. Some of us adapted more easily than others. And being called in the middle of a war, to fight a war that really means nothing to you, is not easy."

Sandra nodded, mulling that over. "Yet when asked, many humans would have appreciated knowing what they were intended to be from the beginning. Maybe something like thinking what you didn't go through is the easier way. Were you sparked, Ratchet?"

"Kindled." Ratchet grunted. "My creators were influential mecha, with agendas of their own. I started out on politics. Left when the scrap got to be too much and found something _useful_ to do."

"How'd they take it?" Sandra asked, genuinely curious.

"They weren't pleased, but they still spoke to me. Once I started getting a reputation as a physician my sire warmed up to the idea." Ratchet recalled, pulling up memories that were from a time few other functioning could still recall.

"I'm glad it didn't cost you family," Sandra smiled. "Love them or hate them, they're still kin." She paused and regarded the two medics thoughtfully as they went back to the work of keeping the equipment and themselves ready. "Ratchet, were your creators a contract, bonded, something else?"

"Arranged bonded. It was a common thing among the higher classes then." Ratchet answered easily as he continued to work. "They liked each other well enough, so it wasn't a bad arrangement, as the things went."

"Not an unknown system in human history, though not many still practice it," Sandra hummed. "Do you have a mate?"

"Nope. Not planning on looking for one unless I have to either. More trouble than it's worth, to me." And that was the honest truth, as far as the old mech was concerned. If he was lucky his coding wouldn't kick in, and he could spend the rest of his functioning vorns taking care of other mecha's sparklings.

Sandra nodded, quite understanding of the answer. If left among humans, she likely wouldn't have bothered either. As it was, even calling what she had with Rewind being lovers was debatable. It was likely going to be lifelong to her, but to him ... two vorns at most and not being exclusive in any way wasn't exactly a commitment.

"I know you were sparked an adult," she turned her attention to First Aid. "Do you know what it was like for Ironhide? Either of you."

"He was kindled, but not into anything like a nice functioning." First Aid said softly. "You've heard him talk of his own creations. To him, that was just normal."

"Was he raised by his carrier?" she asked for a tidbit that he hadn't spoken of.

First Aid could only shake his helm. "Once separation occurs, the sparkling was taken away to be raised by specialists so the carrier could return to their function of fighting."

"The idea was to eliminate any sort of bond that might exist. They were bred and raised to be fighters, and all loyalty belonged to the Prime and to the military. Or just the military, depending on who you asked." Ratchet growled, the memory of a practice that had never set well with him bringing out a bit of darkness.

"Standard politics," Sandra huffed. "Follow the credits and you find the power. Follow the power and you'll find the credits. I'm pretty sure that's how it's always worked. Even here and now."

"Optimus tries." First Aid said thoughtfully. "And things are different, at least for now. Ironhide and I plan to let Pass choose his own course."

"The first few generations after a major revolution or civil war tend to be saner than most," Sandra agreed, something that Ratchet huffed his agreement to. "I hope Pass is happy with the freedom."

The young medic touched the plating over his spark unconsciously, then looked at Ratchet. "Do you think he will be?"

"He Pit well better be with as many who didn't have any choices to speak of," the old medic grumbled.

Sandra clenched her jaw to stop herself from pointing out that it was a terrible answer and reason enough for the sparkling to feel terrible. Instead she focused on First Aid. "He'll have all the support he needs to make a choice he's happy with. It might be hard, but he'll have a good life for it."

"Thanks." First Aid murmured, venting softly and returning to his work, a little shaken by the response from his mentor until he reminded himself that this was Ratchet, who spoke his processor as he pleased around those he liked and trusted.


	5. Migration

The private room just off the main treatment area was quiet except for the hum of monitors and the quiet cycling of one nervous carrier. If anything was going to go wrong during a carry after a newspark stabilized, it was now. Just the idea that something _could_ happen to Pass It Along was enough to make First Aid worry. Ratchet had run all of the normal tests as soon as First Aid had arrived and gotten settled, only to declare that everything looked good and was progressing at a steady, normal rate.

Still, First Aid couldn't wait until his mate arrived. Sandra too, the small human having become a constant comfort to him. Even Rewind would be welcome. His endless trivia chatter was going to be a very welcome distraction. Supposedly he was there to record the process for records. It wasn't really a secret that he was there to keep Sandra company through a process that could require several of her recharge cycles to complete.

He'd worried about her at first, becoming involved with an alien that could not love her as her own kind could. The difference in lifespans prohibited it. She could not procreate with her chosen mate. He knew, deep down, that even if Rewind cared for her, this was more trivia gathering than care on his part. When he's carefully broached the subject she'd smiled and assured him she knew all this and more than he'd ever thought of. She was happy with the arrangement though, and if she was happy he was happy for her.

If Rewind gave her what she needed out of the relationship, no matter how it was defined, he was in no position to tell her it was wrong given he was in a contract relationship just to create a new life.

His processor switched to wandering over that thought even as the next few subtle changes were logged subconsciously. The minor shifting of the partially constructed frame, the realignment of his own spark chamber, all of it was in preparation for the spark he and Ironhide had kindled to move from being wholly dependent on First Aid's spark to settling into the frame that would be his home for the rest of his functioning.

Ironhide. The old warrior was different in almost every sense of the word. Kindled where First Aid was sparked. Old enough to have seen multiple Primes and periods of a Cybertron that First Aid was still seeing built. A warrior, compared to his gentle mate. One of the few things they had in common was being created for a purpose.

Yet somehow this entire arrangement was working. Even his brothers, who had spent quite a while worrying and fussing over what the arrangement would mean to the gestalt had settled.

He knew an instant before Blades poked his helm inside the door that the thought of his gestalt was not random.

"How are you both doing?" Blades asked as he continued to hang behind the wall with only his helm visible.

"Get in there if you want to talk," Ironhide's annoyed rumble hid little of his fondness for the young mecha that had nearly escaped the war's brutality.

The exchange cheered First Aid, chasing away some of the doom and gloom around his spark, and brightening the muted gestalt bond.

"Good." He responded, sitting up slowly on the berth. "Pass is being quiet, but Ratchet says that it normal. And everything is going well. Who all came?" He added, reaching out a hand in invitation to Ironhide.

His brother took it instead, holding tight as relief flared through the now open bond. A glance said Ironhide didn't mind. For how possessive and protective he often was, the old warrior seemed to be able to judge when intentions were fully platonic quite well and tolerated First Aid socializing far better than the medic had expected. Amorous looks, however, were greeted with deep growling threats and charged weapons.

"Just me. Ratchet said it would be too much stress for everyone to be here. With what's happening and all," Blades shifted as Ironhide came close to take First Aid's other hand.

"Sandra is chatting up Ratchet," Ironhide told them both. "She'll be along with him."

"Not much to see yet." First Aid smiled, much more relaxed now. His field reflected the change, smoothing out to where his brother and his mate could teek it easily.

"How upset were the others at not being allowed to come?" He asked Blades. He liked his brothers, and the attention, especially once he started to show, had been fun and entertaining. And a little overwhelming on occasion.

"Mollified by the promise of a gestalt party once he's all settled in his spark chamber," Blades chuckled, then glanced at Ironhide. "Just a few joors while he's at work and you aren't."

The old mech nodded his acceptance and things relaxed even more.

"I thought you might like the extra company," Ratchet's voice chuckled as he entered the room and scanned the readouts, then knelt to give Sandra and Rewind a lift to a spot above the bank of machines so they could have a safe vantage point even if things got crazy.

"Of course." First Aid leaned in the berth so that he was resting against Ironhide, very content as the old warrior wrapped an arm around him. "Excited?" He asked Sandra once she and her lover were settled down in their safe place and Ratchet had gone back to checking the monitors.

"Very excited," she grinned at him. "Though I think you are the most excited. This is your creation's first step to independence."

"I am." First Aid purred, optics following Ratchet briefly as the medic departed once more, leaving the small almost family unit alone. "Worried, but yes, excited." He admitted, helm tipping up to nuzzle at Ironhide. He was given a warm, affectionate kiss that was surprisingly light on desire.

"How far along is it?" Ironhide asked when their mouths finally parted,

"Really hasn't started yet." First Aid admitted with a soft sound of resignation. "I commed Ratchet when I got the first warning, obeyed the orders to get my 'aft here pronto', and been waiting ever since. I keep wanting to check on him, but I know I shouldn't distract him." He admitted, looking a little guilty.

"It's okay," Ironhide patted his hand. "You'll know almost as fast as he does if he's in trouble. You've got a strong carrier bond. Let the nothing bad be a good sigh, 'cause it is."

"How long can this take?" Blades glanced up at one of the few surviving mecha who'd carried.

"Varies, some as little as half a joor. Mine took close to three each. It took Rhythm almost nine joors. The stronger the bond with the carrier, the slower it seems to go," the old mech shrugged.

"Is there any theories on why that is?" Sandra asked from her perch, visually scanning First Aid and then twisting down to try and look at the monitors for herself.

"It's been suggested that there might be some correlation between the strength of the bond and a reluctance to leave the carrier's spark, but no one has ever been able to prove it." First Aid said, smiling in amusement as Rewind reached out to steady Sandra before she tumbled off the edge, then pulled her back to sit against him to watch the readouts on a datapad he routed them to.

"Makes sense to me," Ironhide shrugged.

"True, who wants to leave safe, warm and cared for?" Sandra smiled. "I think we'll be here for a long time."

"Well, then I have plenty of time to tell stories." Blades said as he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable at his brother's berthside. "And we can start planning that party, since you should have some say in it too."

First Aid chuckled. "True. A distraction would be good."

* * *

Blades was in the middle of a long, involved, and very humorous tale involving Streetwise and a still unidentified prankster when First Aid flinched the berth, then froze. His field teeked of barely contained panic as one hand pressed over his spark.

::Ratchet.:: Ironhide pinged, knowing the medic would understand. "Relax, the pain is normal. It's just the physical connection breaking."

"I know." First Aid replied, trying to convince himself of the fact as Ratchet came bustling in, optics sweeping over his charge and then turning to the monitors and the general energy of the room.

"Just now?" The old medic asked, reaching out to tweak one a bit.

"Yes. It ... hurt a bit." First Aid said, still holding tightly to Ironhide with his other hand.

"Strong bond, strong ties. He's a strong spark too." Ratchet said, pointing to one indicator that was now glowing bright and steady. "He may not have waited for all of the connectors to fade enough to not hurt before pulling away. Looks good though."

"That he's strong enough to break them is a _good_ sign," Ironhide assured his mate, excitement growing as the truth of it sank in. "He's not going to get stuck. Ratchet triple checked the passage. He just needs to settle into his chamber and connect with his frame."

"Well formed and plenty large enough, even for a spark of Pass's size and energy. Best thing you can do is relax on that berth so you don't put a kink in anything and let him do what his coding is telling him needs to do." Ratchet said, nodding at Ironhide and grunting in satisfaction as the old warrior guided First Aid to lay back. "You should still have the creator bond with him. You'll feel it if anything goes wrong."

"As will I," Ironhide added. "He's calm."

"He is." First Aid agreed, relaxing as well once the creator bond settled again and he could feel Pass It Along. The spark was strong, but very focused on what it was doing, without much attention to spare for his worried carrier.

"What's it like?" Sandra called down from her perch. "Does it feel like anything?"

First Aid quietly contemplated the question. "It hurt when he first pulled away, but from what Ratchet said that is not always normal. I can feel the route that he is taking. The strong energy feels like what I have heard humans describe as tickling, I think."

"Except it's inside you." She cocked her head, trying to imagine an internal tickle that wasn't the precursor to a lot of coughing and pain. "How long does this stage take?"

"Hopefully not very long." First Aid said. "The longer the travel, the longer he is without a direct source of energy. Longer than a joor is reason to be concerned."

"How far down can you feel him?" Ratchet asked, his optics locked on the readouts.

"Midway, there abouts." First Aid concluded, trying not squirm at a particular strong flare and located the location with a finger.

Ratchet nodded and went back to the monitors. "Keep your finger where he is."

Suddenly the center of a very attentive audience, First Aid complied a little self consciously, fingers tracing their way very slowly down the thick core of his frame.

The shyness faded as Pass It Along continued to move, First Aid distracted as he tracked the progression of the migration with growing wonder. 

Given the current occupants of the small room it was very quiet, most optics and one set of human eyes glued to the mech on the berth and the slow progression of his fingers. Time blurred until First Aid shivered again. "I think he's there."

A quarter klik later a set of readouts that had been flatline came to life and Ratchet made a pleased sound.

"There and settling into his chamber well enough to begin connecting to systems. You'll start to feel him move in a few orns," Ratchet chuckled.

"And his demands will begin to be very different," Ironhide purred.

"I am _so_ glad I have soundproofing," Sandra giggled. "I'd never recharge otherwise."

"And we may be glad that you're _not_ living at home right now." Blades added with a laugh of his own. "I enjoy a good show as much as the next bot, but the stories I've heard..."

"Are all _under_ statements," Ironhide grinned at him while his fingers began to play across First Aid's plating. "I never thought he would be such an _enthusiastically_ loud berthmate."

The shiver that ran through First Aid was accompanied by a stronger flare of raw desire in his field, enough to send his brother into a fit of laughter and catch the attention of every other mech in the room. Including one strict medic.

"Not attached to my monitors, and not in my medical!" Ratchet snapped. "You can wear him and that over-active libido of yours out in your _own_ home _after_ I make sure Pass is settled and everything else is closed up."

"Yes, Sir," Ironhide teased his old friend, one of the few mecha who understood what _old_ meant even if Ratchet was generations younger than Ironhide.

Ratchet grunted and went back to studying the monitors. "At this rate, another joor and you can go, barring anything abnormal popping up."

"And then we can take advantage of the fact that Pass and Sandra are both going to want to be recharge." First Aid purred suggestively to his mate.

"As if I need that to take advantage of your needs," Ironhide rumbled eagerly, but kept his touching to the reasonably discreet to avoid being kicked out of the room.


	6. Separation

First Aid was laying on the couch at home on his back, very willing to indulge Sandra, who was crawling over his boxy, extended midsection to examine whatever it was she saw and felt. At just over eight metacycles along, he knew the separation should begin any orn and she was _fascinated_ by it. He knew she'd watched the recording of Rhythm separating from Jazz repeatedly and quizzed the carrier on every aspect she could think of.

"The sound's changed," she said suddenly.

First Aid turned his focus inward for a moment, checking on Pass It Along, brushing the warmth through the bond and feeling the calm strength of the beautiful spark over the creator bond.

"Pass is calm, and I don't have any..." His voice trailed off. "Well, now I have notices. Separation is starting." He said, sending a comm to both Ratchet and Ironhide to inform them of this.

::Get your aft down here then, or do I need to pick you up?:: Ratchet responded immediately while Sandra squealed like the young woman.

::I'll be there within a breem,:: Ironhide said. ::Home or medbay?::

::Do you want to take me to the medbay, or should Ratchet pick me up?:: First Aid asked, ignoring his mentor in favor of his mate for the moment, reaching out to steady Sandra when she almost slipped from his frame in her excitement.

::I'll take you,:: the old warrior rumbled, not about to abandon his duties now.

::We'll be waiting.:: First Aid promised. ::Sandra almost fell off while she was investigating the changes, and she is running around 'packing'.::

::I'm coming too!:: Rewind's ecstatic voice chimed in. ::There aren't nearly enough separations on record.::

::Then you better help Sandra pack.:: First Aid pointed out. ::And make sure that she gets there without breaking any laws,:: he added, rising slowly from the couch and starting to gather the few things that he needed to take with him. A datapad of cases went in his subspace, habit more than any suspicion that he would have time to read them.

A few more odds and ends, and he looked up as Ironhide came in the door.

"Ready?" Ironhide asked, giving a glance around for Sandra.

"Coming! Coming!" she yelled out of her apartment before appearing at the door and scrambling towards them with much more strength than her hundred year old body could have managed without the various upgrades she'd gotten over the years.

"I am." First Aid said, optics glowing in amusement as he walked up to Ironhide, his field warm with welcome, excitement, and the beginning of nerves. "It sounds like Sandra is as well."

"Definitely. I've been ready for orns!" she grinned, easily as excited as First Aid. "Are we walking or rolling?"

"Well, I can't roll currently." First Aid reminded her gently after snuggled against Ironhide for a moment. "So it is up to 'Hide. You can ride either way though, I am sure."

"I'll board it if you're walking," she said firmly, looking at Ironhide, who looked at First Aid.

"It really up to you," the old warrior corrected. "It's not that far a walk, but if your innards are twitchy...."

"Not that bad. And the walk will be good for me. Though it will not likely not get us there fast enough to please Ratchet." First Aid decided.

"Your brother couldn't _fly_ us there fast enough to make him happy." Sandra sniped as she grabbed her hover board and loaded it with a practiced motion and firing it smoothly to rise level with the pair of mechs. "Even if nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong, is it?"

"No." The light colored mech laughed. "Everything feels good so far."

"Good," Sandra relaxed, balancing the board in place with the ease of a long lifetime on it. "Rewind will meet us there."

"He sounded just as excited about the whole process as you are. I think you rubbed off on him." First Aid teased as they left their apartment, the carrying mech shielded protectively from the common traffic by his mate.

It was a familiar enough sight to those who lived and commuted through the area on a regular basis that mecha didn't even bother to look twice as they passed, the trio giving no outward sign that this trip was different from any other, even if it was a truly monumental event. 

Rewind greeted them outside the medbay by leaping up to land behind Sandra on her board, a move, and the steadiness of the board, proving just how ready she was for it.

"So if migration takes longer the stronger the bond, is it the same for separation?" Sandra asked as they moved inside.

"With Pass, it may well be the opposite. Once the connections are broke here he will no longer need me, and I can help guide him out." First Aid hummed as they made their way inside and to a very impatient Ratchet. "A lot of it also depends on how impatient the sparkling is to be out, and as laid back as he is, things might not happen as quickly."

"So you have very little control over it, it's mostly on the sparkling to set the pace?" Sandra asked to be sure as she relaxed against Rewind's chest and let him guide the hoverboard to the spot in the carrier room of the medbay.

"The sparkling and how fast my own systems are willing to rearrange themselves. Pass could cause damage if he tries to force his way out too fast, for whatever reason." First Aid said, answering her before he was distracted by Ironhide helping him up onto the berth Ratchet indicated.

"Somehow, I don't think it'll be a problem with this one," Ironhide chuckled. "He's got your temperament rather than mine."

"A good thing, since I don't feel like putting another mech back together this early in an orn." Ratchet grumbled as he started setting monitors to track First Aid and Pass It On. "Stupid overcharged daredevils and their stupid overcharged games..."

The old mech's grumblings brought a glow of gentle amusement to First Aid's field as he took Ironhide's hand in his own, keeping his mate close. "It that a good thing or a bad thing, for what you wanted?" He asked, knowing that while they would both be content with a happy, healthy sparkling, they also both had hopes and dreams for Pass It Along as well.

"Yes," Ironhide admitted. "He'll handle peacetime better. Mecha like me don't really have many places in this society."

Above them Sandra held her peace, not nearly as convinced as Ironhide that stubborn and fierce didn't have many places in a peaceful society.

The snort that escaped Ratchet and First Aid's gentle "There's always a place for mechs like you." were verbal expressions of her opinion, First Aid even pulling Ironhide down for a soft kiss full of affection.

"Mmm, just not for many of us," Ironhide replied. "Anything red?"

"No. Everything is good, just odd. Systems aren't supposed to move this way." First Aid commented, his tone light as he brushed against Pass It Along, just to check on the sparkling, and was rewarded with a with a return brush of controlled excitement and warm affection. "He's not impatient."

"Just wait until he sees light," Ironhide chuckled. "Even the calm ones want out _now_ when they see light."

"Natural reaction." Ratchet said. "You can try and keep him calm then, and we'll help. But if any damage occurs during a separation, it's usually then."

"Was Rhythm calm?" Sandra asked. "He seems to take after both Prowl and Jazz in turns."

"Not in the least." Ratchet said, smiling a little at the memory of the first sparkling that he had delivered in far too many vorns, and one of the first signs of the true return of peace. "Though between his smaller size and Prowl's stern direction Jazz only ended up with a few minor torn wires and one rather painful internal dent. A few kliks worth of repairs once everyone was settled and in recharge."

"Have there been any that were worse?" Sandra asked. "I know there haven't been many, but Flipwing seems like he manages to run an entire gestalt ragged. And there's that little demon of Red Alert's."

"Flipwing is a high energy sparkling, but he's too smart to panic, and that entire lot were _happy_ through the whole process." Ratchet said. "Livewire made scrap hash of Inferno's insides trying to get out because Red Alert went into a fit. If that pair kindle again _ever_ there's already a note for Red Alert to be sedated."

Sandra thought about that then winced well after sympathetic looks or sounds came from the others. "How long did it take to get Inferno back in shape?"

"That was several joors of initial repair, and orns of recovery. He had ornly check-ups for a metacycle." Ratchet sighed. "So the two of you had better tell that sparkling of yours to behave."

"Neither of us has panic in our coding," Ironhide rumbled defensively. "I don't think Pass it Along does either."

"All he's ever wanted was approval," First Aid insisted. "He'll behave. I'm sure of it."

"Easy, you two." Ratchet soothed, dropping into professional mode in an attempt to keep the creators calm as well. "He plays off of you a great deal, no matter how calm he is naturally."

"Right. Calm, everything's good, no growling," Ironhide made the effort to settle his temper a bit more firmly.

"I see something moving!" Sandra squealed and pointed at the centerline of First Aid's frame.

"Yes, something's moving. Again." First Aid agreed with good humor. The transformation sequences that would create a path to the outside world and free Pass It Along were not painful, but they were not _normal_ either, and it was an effort not to squirm.

Instead he settled for squeezing Ironhide's hand and focusing on something else. "Everything is good."

"Now the fun part starts," Ratchet warned them all. "Keeping him calm is your priority. I'll worry about making sure he doesn't hurt himself trying to get out."

"He's calm right now." First Aid reported, relaxing back on the berth. He was excited about the fact that he was soon going to be able to finally hold his first creation, but he also knew that there was still a long process before then. "And we are too. He's promising that he'll wait until I tell him to move."

The likelihood of that happening was slim, a fact that First Aid had been warned of multiple times. But Pass It Along was a bright sparkling, and First Aid was willing to try anything that might slow him down and be better for them both in the long run.

"I'm not sure that there is anything I know of in humans to compare this to for you. Things are moving, but some are also literally being disassembled right now as well." He said, looking up at Sandra.

"C-section," she informed him with a shudder. "I never completely understood why, but they still take most of your lower innards out in the process. Not fun, but better than not being able to get the baby out."

"Which is still not a natural process for your race." First Aid mused as he looked up the process. "But yes, similar. I am anticipating that the most uncomfortable part is when my protoform is going to reshape to allow him out, but we'll see. Were there any questions you wanted to ask me during the process? Or things that you want me to report?"

"I'd like to know what it feels like. The technical aspects are pretty well documented, but what it _feels_ like to have your guts move around like that isn't. How much is Pass It Along aware of the process? How much control does he have of it?"

"It feels _weird_." First Aid said, deliberately borrowing a human phrase to describe it. "The process so far has not been painful. He is aware that things are happening, but he will not be aware of much that is happening around him until the chamber breaks down. He has very little control of anything except his own frame. He can break the lines that connect us, but he is not planning to do that intentionally. They should part on their own, given the chance. A few of them already have disconnected."

The report was a bit jumbled, but First Aid was simply trying to give her updates and information in the same order that he was receiving it.

"Do you feel each disconnect, or is it just a report?" She asked, fascinated by the subject once she began to have major cybernetic upgrades where sometimes she _felt_ it and sometimes it was just a notice.

"I feel them disconnect." First Aid informed her. "I also get a notice. I don't know if it is normal," he said, looking from Ratchet to Ironhide, "but I feel when the energy flow stops."

"It's normal for mecha who had more advanced frame awareness," Ratchet said. "Not everyone does, but medics will, among others."

"So apparently that is normal for mecha like me." First Aid concluded to Sandra, amused. "Several of my main frame struts just folded out of the way, and some of the outer structure of the construction chamber has been disassembled now. It's a little disconcerting because _I_ feel like that area is highly vulnerable right now, even though I am getting no danger notices."

"Because material is no longer between your innards and the world, or is it something to do with Pass It Along?" she asked.

"Probably some of both. I still have an aversion to being vulnerable to attack, from any sort of 'damage'. My protocols that wants me to keep Pass safe and shielded haven't faded into the background completely yet either." First Aid admitted after some thought. "I would probably be much more stressed without Ironhide and Ratchet present."

"You can't ask for better protection, except maybe Prime," she smiled. "I'm quite sure your bothers are just far enough away to avoid getting yelled at."

"They are all anxiously waiting in the main reception area." First Aid informed her. "Blades may well wear a track in the floor before Pass is here, at the rate he is pacing."

Even having not lived with his gestalt he could still feel all of his brothers easily over the bond, and could feel their emotions and some of their actions when he felt along the connection. That bond did not require he be in contact every orn, though he often saw at least one an orn, at least in passing. It was strange that he so easily turned to a mech he had no bond with before his brothers, but he did. He was just grateful his brothers didn't mind.

Things might change once his code was not so fixated on the sire of their creation, but even that thought was chased to the back of his processor as a major group of sensors shifted out of the way and part of his core reshaped itself to accommodate a moving fuel tank.

It was disconcerting, no matter what his readouts and mentor and mate all said. It was just _weird_. Yet Ironhide's field was smooth and reassuring. Ratchet's was professionally smooth and settled in the way that First aid knew meant that he believed all was well.

Normal or not, it felt very strange and unnatural.

A half a joor passed of things just moving and arranging themselves, First Aid reporting each as it happened and trying to describe some of it for Sandra as things progressed.

There was another audible change in sound, and First Aid shivered at the flare of excitement that washed over the creator bond he shared with his sparkling. "He's mostly disconnected now, and the last of the chamber wall is moving. He's-" First Aid flinched in place, caught off guard by the sudden movement in his midsection that he could neither control nor anticipate. "He wants out."

"He can see light?" Ratchet asked as he began to focus on the spread-wide armor.

"A little bit, or at least what he thinks is light." First Aid replied, most of his attention focusing in on the creator bond as he addressed the sparkling. ~Easy Pass. You will get out, I promise.~

A low whine echoed back, but so did agreement despite the intense excitement.

~Move too soon and you will damage your carrier,~ Ironhide added.

~Hurt carrier?~ The question echoed back as all motion stopped, Pass It Along clearly concerned.

~Not yet little one.~ First Aid assured him. ~Just move slowly, and stop if I tell you too. You may keep moving now. Your sire is waiting to help you out.~

~'K.~ Relieved, Pass It Along started to move again, his speed and care not wavering even when a delighted squeal sounded from inside First Aid. ~Light?!~

~Yes, I believe so,~ First Aid responded even as Ironhide moved his hand over the opening. ~That is your sire's hand causing it to dim.~

~Sire.~ Pass It Along purred, moving methodically forward until with a stretch he could touch the dark outline over the opening. There was an intense rush of emotion across the sire-bond and Ironhide trembled faintly.

~Yes,~ the old mech whispered. ~Can you teek my field?~

~Happy.~ Pass It Along replied. ~Carrier happy too. Out now? See now?~ He added as he pushed against the hand with his own.

~Soon,~ Ironhide promised. "Soon," he rumbled out loud.

"He's clear." First Aid informed his mate. "And the sooner you help him out, the sooner he might stop pushing against my primary fuel tank for leverage."

"You _feel_ him like that?" Sandra suddenly broke in as Ironhide and Ratchet both moved to assist the lubricant-covered unarmored protoform from First Aid's abdominal area.

"Yes." First Aid chuckled a little as he glanced up at her. "Pressure sensors register his efforts. It's not painful, but it is annoying."

His attention was diverted from her in a sparkbeat as excited chirping filled the room, Pass It Along having worked himself halfway out with some guidance and currently sprawled partially on his carrier's lower chest armor, resting for a moment.

Bright blue optics took in everything as the tiny, simple helm swiveled around, flashes of warmth and affection sweeping across the bond as he identified his carrier and sire.

"He's looking good," Ratchet reported. "All systems are functioning and his sparkbeat is steady."

"He's so skinny," Sandra murmured.

"He's perfect," Ironhide rumbled, long-set training keeping him mostly hands off during the actual struggle for freedom.

"Come on, little one." First Aid encouraged gently, reaching down and offering his hands for Pass It Along to use for leverage.

After a brief moment of consideration the sparkling latched on, using the new leverage to pull himself the rest of the way out, his small frame sliding easily over his carrier's.

First Aid didn't hesitate, guiding his creation up to rest over his spark and resting a gentle hand on the tiny back. Exhausted by the effort of getting out and separated from his carrier's reserves for the first time, Pass It Along gratefully sank into recharge right there and ignored the gentle cleaning by his carrier and Ratchet.

Ironhide was fixated on guarding his mate, who was still in such a vulnerable condition with his internals so exposed and a newly separated sparkling resting on his chest.

::Sandra, don't say anything. I know that look. Hide's not quite himself,:: Rewind commed her on such a short range transmission it barely reached an arm's length away. She nodded slightly and held as still as she could.

Instead she silently watched as First Aid cleaned away the last of the fluid that had suspended the tiny sparkling while storing and supplying the material to help form the protoform and frame. Ratchet backed away a bit as First Aid moved on to checking Pass It Along, inspecting every centimeter of the tiny frame and paying no attention as his frame started to return itself to rights.

"Perfect." First Aid finally informed his mate, his field glowing with contentment, joy, and exhaustion of his own.

"I know," Ironhide reached over to stroke his mate's helm. "We did well. Now starts the part I don't know any better than you."

"We'll manage." First Aid murmured as his helm pressed into the touch. "Got this far. And he is perfect." The tired carrier repeated.

"Yes," Ironhide agreed, relaxing incrementally as First Aid's armor gradually closed. "Recharge. I have guard."

"My mate." First Aid purred softly, optics already dark as he slipped into recharge, safe and secure with Pass It Along and his arms and Ironhide close enough to teek.


	7. The End, or the Beginning?

Pass It Along looked around the apartment that had been his home for all of his functioning until a few vorns ago. It was almost empty now, his creators having already moved most of their belongings out in preparation for going their separate ways now that he no longer needed them. Ironhide and First Aid had been the best creators that a creation could ask for, and Pass It Along would never admit that his opinion was biased. Still, he knew there was nothing more than affection between the pair, nothing to hold them together but him. Now he had his own functioning and a lover he had moved in with.

With a vent he went into the room that had been his to clean out the last few things that were still there. Old things mostly, most of which probably needed to go to the recycling center. He pulled the top off a storage tote and started at an item that he had almost forgotten about. It was mixed in with sparkling toys, though it wasn't a toy. It had been used for only a vorn by a being that he'd only had a few metacycles of memories of, but knew through his creators had been with them from shortly before his kindling. She'd spent her entire existence watching him grow inside his carrier, and the last small part of a very short existence watching him grow in his first few metacycles outside of First Aid.

As a new sparkling he'd been only 60% of her size. By the time her hoverboard was no longer hers he was only 62% of her size. Now he was half a helm taller than either of his creators. A fact that he never passed up teasing his warrior sire about when he knew he could get away with it. Both of his creators had hesitated when he had asked for it after she was gone, but eventually gave in once he had been a little older, First Aid pointing out that it had been their fault for letting Sandra give him rides on it and learning what it felt like to essentially fly.

With another glance at the box Pass It Along closed the lid and carried it to the main room, hoverboard still in hand.

"Going to turn that in, or keep it?" Ironhide asked from where he was stacking boxes near the door for the final load to be moved out. Three hundred and four vorns had produced a lot of things that they were passing on, but this last load were things they each intended to keep.

"Think I'll keep it, at least for a little while." Pass It Along decided, adding his box to the pile of recycle stuff. There wasn't much he was holding on too, but this was different. "Going to be weird, not coming back here to see you two any more."

"It's not like either of us are going far," First Aid told him as he brought the last box of his things out of the berthroom. "My brothers love it when you come to visit, and you're always welcome. And Ironhide isn't leaving Iacon either."

"I know." Pass It Along replied, smiling at both of his creators. "And a break is a good thing..."

"But?" First Aid said, looking up at his creation. After a little over three hundred vorns he knew what that tone meant- something cheeky was on it's way out of his creations mouth.

"I think I need a little brother."

"Maybe by the time you have a creation with Steelcoil," Ironhide huffed. "I need a break."

"We both do." First Aid said as he walked up beside Pass It Along and placed a gentle hand on the mech's back, his field teeking strongly of the warm affection he would always feel for his first creation. "You were wonderful to raise, but it's not a lifestyle that either of us are used to, or care to practice long-term."

"It's just the only one you've seen," Ironhide added. "First Aid needs time to grow up too. He's not even twelve vorns older than you are."

"Is there a reason you feel you need to keep reminding me of that?" First Aid sniped, his tone and field taking all the string out of the wording.

"Because he enjoys being reminded that he's still good enough to keep a mechling satisfied," Pass It Along snickered. "Old mech likes to stroke his pride."

First Aid doubled over laughing at the indignant expression on Ironhide's face, knowing that it was true to some degree, and so much funnier for that reason alone.

"Any time you feel the need." He offered after he got himself under control, field reaching out to brush against Ironhide with the sincerity of the offer.

"If I wanted to polish my ego, I'd have the full gestalt move in," Ironhide huffed without a bit of malice. "I could keep all five of them sated and not moving."

Pass It Along's optics glittered. "I think I'd like to see you try."

"Do that, and they may not let you go." First Aid said, joining in the on the fun before turning to sweep his optics over the bare apartment. There were good memories here, but it was time to move on. He had no real desire to settle into a committed relationship with Ironhide beyond the end of their contract.

"Then they'd have to keep _me_ fully satisfied," Ironhide grinned at his now former-mate. "It's not as easy as keeping you happy."

"Five to choose from." First Aid pointed out.

From his vantage point Pass It Along had to smile, the familiar bickering between his creators comforting at what really was a huge turning point in the young mech's functioning. They might not live together anymore, but this was solid proof that they hadn't changed. It was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> nanoklik = 1/8 second;   
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;   
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;   
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;   
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;   
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;   
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;   
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;   
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;   
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter
> 
> Kindling/Conception  
> Self-awareness (1/3 way through carry)  
> Protoform/Frame formation (start around 1/2 way)  
> Migration (2/3-3/4 way through)  
> Separation


End file.
